Troll Bridge
by PeaceLightVictory
Summary: Sarah is house sitting with a friend. Strange things happen and Sarah blames the goblins - but her friend blames trolls. The pair are pulled Underground by two cousins that they both hoped they would never meet again. Nothing is as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: And now, for my first JarethxSarah fanfic! =D I hope you all enjoy.**

**I do not own the Labyrinth. But I do own the OCs mentioned here on out.**

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><p>Chapter 1: House Guest<p>

"Are you sure that it'll be fine?" The voice over the phone asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. A young woman set the cell phone down on a coffee table and pressed speaker. She brushed a strand of brunette hair behind her ear and settled back onto the red couch.

"Yes, I'm positive, Brenna!" The brunette reached for a book titled _British Literature: Romantic Period_ and flipped through the pages. "My aunt said I could invite friends to stay with me while I watch their house. I figured since you lived in the area a while ago, you'd want to - I dunno - relive the memories. And you wouldn't have to stay in the dorms - with your irritating roommates." She smiled slyly, knowing that she had won the argument.

After a short pause, the girl on the other end of the line sighed. "Good point, Sarah. How soon can I come over?"

"Depends on how fast of a driver you are." Sarah answered while gazing at a section on Robert Burns. "Any time is fine with me. I kind of hope you get in today. I'd rather not spend another night alone in this old house." She made a face as she recalled the strange noises she had been hearing from outside. She shook her head and mentally scolded herself for having an over-active imagination.

"I'm almost packed for the fall semester and I'll need to stop by the school to get the rest of my stuff out of storage - so I think the earliest I'll be there will be mid-afternoon tomorrow. Think you can hold out until then?" Brenna questioned.

Sarah shrugged, a grin breaking out over her face. "Stop by the store to pick up some party food and I'll let it slide." Her green eyes sparkled with amusement as Brenna's laughter flowed from the phone's speaker.

"You have yourself a deal, Williams. I'll see you tomorrow!" Brenna stated in a tone of finality.

"Bye, Brenna." Sarah ended the conversation before reaching for the phone. She smiled to herself before settling back against the red couch. A feeling of accomplishment settled over her as she thought about what she had just done. Brenna had been lamenting the fact she had lost her job and source of income a couple of months back. Without her job, she couldn't save up money to pay rent at an apartment she set her sights on. Both girls knew that living in the dormitory at the college wasn't worth it and the people they were paired up with in the past had been less than kind. When Sarah's aunt and uncle asked her to house sit for them, she had accepted immediately. Her senior year seemed to be starting off pretty good.

Something from upstairs thumped, causing Sarah to jump. Her lips pursing into a thin line, the girl tried to calm her racing heart. Whatever was going on in this house was only the beginning. She had had this feeling before. Sarah wondered how long those guys would bother her. How long _he_ would bother her. If a new face didn't scare them away for a while, then Sarah had a feeling she would need to confront her unwanted house guests. It was not something she looked forward to.

~*T*~*G*~

Sarah stood in front of the kitchen sink washing the few dishes she used that morning for breakfast. Glancing over at the microwave clock sitting on the counter space between the sink and stove, she wondered what she could do before Brenna arrived. She could do laundry or dust. Her eyebrows bent down in a disgusted scowl. Chores did not sound appealing at the moment. She hadn't called home in a while. She could see what Toby was up to. But he was probably out with friends anyway. The kid had taken a great interest in air-soft recently. Sarah couldn't help but chuckle as she thought about the air-soft course her brother and his close buddies had built in his friend's backyard - complete with bunkers, forts, and an underground tunnel that Irene prophesied would collapse one of these days. No, calling Toby was out of the list of options.

With a swipe of a towel, she dried the bowl in her hands then set it in one of the cupboards. Sarah pulled her cell phone out of her jean pant's pocket to see if Brenna had texted her. Nothing. Searching the large kitchen for a sign of what she could do, the young woman lifted her hands in defeat and turned to go down the few steps to the den. Sarah collapsed with an irritable sigh on the red couch and glared moodily at the blank screen of the large flat screen television. Her aunt and uncle didn't have any cable. What was up with that? Tilting her head back, her upside down vision took in the large bookshelf standing against the wall behind her. Her aunt was an avid TV Land fan and had ordered DVD collections of shows like Bonanza, MacGyver, and Gilligan's Isle. Sarah sighed again and lifted her head so she wouldn't get a sore neck. She could browse her uncle's collection of books but mostly all the literature he owned she had already read at some point in her life. Returning her mind to the television, she debated going to grab one of the movies she had brought with her. A smile creased her lips as she mentally went through the list. She had Cyrano de Bergerac, Hamlet, and some other plays on DVD she could watch. Sarah groaned dramatically as she stood to go upstairs. Now that she had her mission to retrieve a movie, she debated the pros and cons of making some popcorn so early in the morning.

Sarah walked down the hallway to the last door. Pausing outside the closed door, she listened for - anything. Shaking her head at herself, the young woman entered the room and headed toward the shelf she had stacked books and DVDs on. The room was practically empty now, but after a couple of months, Sarah would have the room looking like it belonged to her. Sarah reached for a movie that wasn't well known but was one of her favorites to sing along with - Rigoletto. She hoped Brenna would bring her sheet music with her from the movie so they could have their own jamming session. On her way back downstairs to the den, Sarah stopped to make herself some popcorn having come to a decision that a movie without popcorn was just lame. The microwave beeped several times until Sarah retrieved the puffed up bag. She poured the salted and buttered contents into a plastic bowl then headed toward the the DVD was slipped into place, the young lady settled back onto the couch and waited for the menu to pop up.

During the course of the movie, Sarah sang along with a smile on her face. She couldn't wait for her voice lessons to start up again at the beginning of the semester. The movie was just getting to her favorite song - when the girl was performing at the competition - when she heard a car door slam. Pausing the movie, Sarah quickly walked over to the door that looked out over the driveway. She lifted the curtains to peer out at the green Volkswagon Beetle and the girl pulling suitcase after suitcase out of the backseat. A grin glowed on Sarah's face as she unlocked and unbolted the door. Swinging it wide open she called, "Welcome to the coolest pad a pair of senior girls could get without having to pay!"

The girl backed out of the car and grinned back. "Sarah!" Forgetting her suitcases and boxes of things, the ginger haired girl ran up to Sarah and the friends hugged. "I missed you over summer break." She said in an accusatory tone.

Sarah shrugged, "Well, Brenna, if you had come to some of those plays I got into -"

Shoving Sarah's shoulder playfully, Brenna laughed. "Please! As if I'd pass up my parents offer to see Austria and Italy - the place where music was born! You should have called me more."

Following Brenna to the car, Sarah lifted a suitcase. "I just don't understand why your parents, who have enough money to pay for a trip to Europe, won't help you out in getting your own place.

Shrugging her shoulders, Brenna hoisted a bin from her car's trunk. "They want to teach me the value of a dollar for one. And besides, I don't want their help. I could have used their help for so many things - the school I could get into, buying a car - but I wanted to feel the accomplishment of doing it myself." She hip-checked the backseat door and chuckled. "And the trip to Europe was a pre-graduation gift."

"Wish I could go to England for a graduation gift." Sarah mumbled. The pair entered the house with their first load of Brenna's stuff. "You're room will be the one next to mine." Sarah announced. "It's not much right now and my aunt has been using it as Toby's room whenever we come over. Lucky for you, the only thing in it right now is a desk, dresser, and a bunk bed."

"Why? What were they planning on doing to it?" Brenna asked as she maneuvered around the red couch in the den.

"Toby wanted to decorate it with all camo and army stuff." Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Ugh." Brenna mock shuddered. Sarah laughed at her friend's response. They walked headed up the stairs to the kitchen and then up the four steps leading to the hallway where the bedrooms were located. With a flourish, Sarah opened the guest bedroom's door. Brenna walked in and looked around. "I can put my beanbag chair in that corner - and some posters on the wall - yeah, I can make it work."

Sarah grinned. "Work your magic on this room!" A thump on the wall caused both girls to jump.

Brenna quirked an eyebrow. "Do your relatives have pets or something?"

Sarah laughed nervously. "No - the house just makes some weird noises sometimes. Let's go get the rest of your stuff!" She rushed out of the room before Brenna could question her further. Sarah partially wanted to investigate the sound but then she also did not want to face whoever made the noise. The next hour was spent in the pair bringing in Brenna's stuff and getting the room set up to Brenna's satisfaction. Lunchtime rolled around and they took a break in order to get something to eat.

"So what have you done to the room your staying in?" Brenna asked before taking a seat at the table.

"Not much yet." Sarah replied. "I haven't had any drive to do anything to it."

"Now that I'm here, that's going to change." Brenna laughed as she bit into her sandwich. "I saw you had Rigoletto playing earlier. _And_ I heard you singing from outside!" She grinned as her blue eyes sparkled. "You're getting amazing!"

The brunette waved her hand in dismissal. "Not amazing. Just better."

"No!" Brenna interjected. "You've always been better than everybody else when it comes to acting and singing. Now you are _amazing_." Pointing a carrot stick in her friends face for emphasis, the ginger smiled mischievously. "Don't deny it! You know I'm right."

Rolling her green eyes, Sarah took a bight out of Brenna's carrot. "Yes, the beyond-comprehension-wicked-awesome musician has spoken and their is no way I can doubt her word."

"Exactly!" Brenna laughed, inciting Sarah to laughter as well. "Oh! My mom wanted to get me a hammer dulcimer for Christmas."

"_Another_ instrument, Brenna?" Sarah wrinkled her noise. "When are you going to stop?"

Brenna shrugged. "I don't know. Once the world has run out of instruments?"

"How many is that now?"

Lifting her hand, Brenna began counting. "Let's see. I started off on piano, took up the viola, then saxophone, clarinet, euphonium, percussion, hand-bells, violin, cello, fiddle, flute, trumpet, French horn - or did that come after the oboe? - harp, trombone, bassoon -"

"Okay! Okay." Sarah waved her hands and laughed. "You can stop now."

Brenna's impish smile returned. "Stop counting or stop playing?"

"Counting!" Sarah shook her head. "I wish I was as good with instruments."

"And I wish I could sing and act like you." Brenna countered. "Oh, and I brought my guitar along! Just in case we get into the mood to sit in front of that wicked awesome fireplace and want to sing camp songs like 'Kookaburra' or something."

Sarah settled back in her chair and took a sip from her cup of iced tea. "We'll see about the campfire sing-a-long. Tell me about Europe! Meet any hot Italian men?" She listened as her friend rambled on for several minutes about the art, music, beaches, gardens, and everything else she deemed important. Sarah smiled to herself. Having Brenna here while she house-sat for the entire school year would be fun. Everything would be fine too. Counteracting the unwelcome house guests with a guest of her own would work. She wouldn't hear from _him_ or them for a whole year.

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna ran a hand through her wet curls one last time before turning the bathroom light off. She knocked on Sarah's bedroom door and called, "G'night, Sarah!" Her friend mumbled a reply - probably had her nose stuck in a book. Smiling to herself, Brenna entered the altered room and plopped down on the beanbag chair that she had set beneath the window. Tilting her head back, Brenna gazed up at the starlight sky. She loved it out here. She missed living in this neighborhood.

Absentmindedly, she reached for her guitar and began plucking out some chords and rifts. Her mind began to wander back to a time when she had just been ten years old. A grubby, little tomboy running through the woods or riding her bike down the road to the old stone bridge. She could remember her mother reading a book with a worn and torn cover - using a frightening voice for a troll as it threatened three goats. Brenna had been the kid who pretended to be the troll whenever other kids came riding over the wooden plank bridge. They'd go screaming away while she laughed at them.

One day had changed all that. One complete accident and misunderstanding. Things had never been the same again. Her parents worried that her wild stories may be something serious. Child psychologists suggested they leave the environment. Brenna remembered moving away and leaving that bridge. Part of her was happy to leave the bridge - part of her was sad too. She attacked her study of music after that. She hardly made friends after that. She rather spend her time composing pieces that reminded her of a time long gone and best left forgotten.

Her hands suddenly stilled mid-song. Glaring down at the guitar, Brenna hastily put it away again. "Just forget about it." She mumbled as she stood from the beanbag chair and climbed into the bottom bunk-bed. Pulling a quilt up and over her shoulders, Brenna shut her eyes. The tune she left off playing echoed through her mind. Brenna fell asleep dreaming of a bridge made up of twisting, twining vines and a melody played on a reed pipe by a dark haired man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I'm so glad you all enjoyed the first chapter. That said, I apologize that it took me so long to write this chapter. But I meant what I said that it would be a while between updates. =/ That and I hit a writer's block.**

**Regular Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Labyrinth. I own Brenna. Feel free to review at the end of the chapter! =D**

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><p>Chapter 2: Misplaced<p>

Brenna jolted awake as the alarm on her cell phone blared out an annoying tune. Groaning, she stretched to reach the device. Her efforts only knocked the phone off the bedside table and onto the floor. She sighed and growled in aggravation while she sat up and threw the blankets off her legs. Having bent down and finally retrieving the irritation, Brenna pressed the 'dismiss' button. She looked around the room bleary eyed.

She wondered if Sarah was up yet and whether she ought to go get some breakfast put together for her. Brenna rolled out of bed and picked out some comfortable clothes. In a knee-length pair of khaki's and an orange T-shirt, Brenna ventured out of her room. Glancing over at Sarah's closed door, she smirked. She wondered what were the chances that Sarah had stayed up late reading a play script.

Brenna took a running start and slid in her socked feet on the hallway's hardwood floor. She giggled, enjoying the moment of freedom before skipping down the three steps into the kitchen. Ignoring the coffee pot, Brenna pulled the kettle from the stove and filled it with water.

"Where's the tea?" she muttered to herself under her breath. "I know Sarah indulges in breakfast tea. So I _know_ she has a stash around here somewhere." Brenna opened the pantry door and pushed some boxes around. "Aha! Success!" She pulled out a tin box and walked back to the kitchen's island counter-top.

Brenna had just sat down at the round kitchen table with a cereal bowl and steaming cup of tea when Sarah - bedhead sticking up in every which direction - stumbled down the stairs. Brenna tried to hide her laugh, but still earned a bleary-eyed glare from her friend.

"No pancakes?" Sarah questioned before sitting down across from the ginger.

"Well, I would have if you actually ate a substantial breakfast in the morning." Brenna teased. "Last time I attempted making you breakfast, you claimed you'd stick to your tea and an apple."

"How was I supposed to know your muffins are heaven on Earth?" the brunette whined.

Brenna scoffed. "You're making me sound like an angel."

"Ha." Sarah bit out a short laugh before yawning loudly. "You forget, I know about your aversion to cleaning your room."

Standing, the curly haired woman walked to the sink to dump the floating remains of her cereal. "Not listening!"

"Or how you like to wait until the day before an assignment is due." Sarah pointed out cheekily.

"Still not listening!" Brenna sing-songed as she hurried back up the stairs to make a bee-line for the bathroom.

"Or how you fall asleep in the car with your mouth open. And drool!" Sarah shouted.

"I'M STILL NOT LISTENING!" Brenna shouted back before slamming the door to the bathroom. The sound of the shower turning on met Sarah's laughter.

~*T*~*G*~

Sarah snatched her purse off of the red couch and shifted through the contents in search of her car keys. "Hey, I'm off to work now!"

"Sure." Brenna answered, looking up from her magazine. "Want me to lock the door after you go?"

"If you wouldn't mind." Sarah mumbled as she dug through it. "Argh! Where are my keys?"

"Did you take them up to your room?" Brenna asked as she held out her hand for Sarah's purse.

The brunette shook her head before relinquishing her bag. "I always drop them back into my purse. And my purse has been sitting on the couch all night." She lifted her hands in the air. "Things just keep disappearing!"

"What sort of things?" Brenna mumbled, still lifting papers and makeup compacts out of Sarah's purse.

"I lost my cell phone for three days when I first got here. When I found it, there were several missed calls and texts from people I don't even know!" Sarah ran her fingers through her hair. "Then my computer cord went missing only to turn up in the bathroom. The bathroom! Why would it be there?" She stopped ranting as if she had begun unintentionally. "Um - found my keys yet?"

Brenna had a thoughtful expression on her face as she began returning the contents on her lap to Sarah's purse. "No - perhaps - you better check upstairs?"

Darting back up the steps from the den to the kitchen, Sarah groaned. "I'm going to be late!" Brenna followed after her friend, still contemplating something.

"You know," Brenna drew out her words as if hesitant to say them, "maybe something hid them."

"Hid them?" Sarah tossed clothes off her bed and lifted papers off her desk. "Why would I hide them? And if this is your idea of payback for this morning, it's not appreciated."

Shaking her head, so her curls flew around her face, Brenna grunted in the negative. "Nuh-uh. I don't mean _we_ hid them. I mean something else."

Sarah froze in her tracks. "Something else?" she echoed. _Does Brenna know about_ him_?_

Brenna opened her mouth to speak, but her gaze traveled to the bookshelf that held Sarah's DVD and book collection. "Oh! Here they are, Sarah!" Lifting the keys by their shamrock key-chain, she smiled. "I guess you hid them yourself after all!"

Snatching the keys from her friend, Sarah laughed breathlessly. "Yeah. Must have! Well, I gotta run! Can't be late."

"I'll probably run by the dorms so I can get my stuff out of storage." Brenna said as she followed the quickly retreating brunette. "Is there a house key that I should use?"

"Hanging on the hook by the door!" Sarah answered. "Bye! See ya later."

"Have fun!" Brenna chuckled before plopping onto the couch again.

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna tapped her hand to the beat of the music playing from her car radio. She sighed in irritation at the stoplight that glared red. "Stupid country intersections." Looking down the street that had no cars, she rolled her eyes to the car's ceiling.

"Why do I always manage to find the red lights?" Her gaze darted over to look into her rear-view mirror. No one behind her. A hum of triumph escaped her lips when the red light finally turned green.

Checking her radio clock, Brenna smiled again. She had all of her things in the backseat, trunk, and a few items squished in the front seat beside her. By the time she would get back to Sarah's relative's house, she would just have enough time to start unpacking before she started making dinner.

"Maybe I'll make some cookies to satisfy Sarah's sweet tooth." Brenna giggled.

The Volkswagen climbed a hill, trees speeding past. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, the young woman spotted a stone marker that stood beside a dirt path on the side of the road. Brenna's humming quieted until it ceased all together. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened until her knuckles were white.

She tried to keep her eyes focused on the road ahead of her, but every few seconds her eyes glanced - as if of their own volition - at that dirt path that followed the road. _Don't look. It's coming up ahead. Just _don't_ look!_ she chanted to herself over and over again in her head. Brenna sucked in a breath and held it. Unblinking, she stared at the cement in front of her car. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a break in the foliage. Forcing her eyes to focus on the pavement once more, she willed herself not to look.

At the last possible second, before she had completely passed the gap in the trees, Brenna's eyes were drawn to look at the dirt path that turned into that gap and somewhere in the distance she spied a footbridge.

Releasing her pent up breath, Brenna's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. Shaking all over she gasped for air. _I didn't see what I thought I saw. They aren't real. They weren't real then. They're not real now. I _didn't_ see _anything_!_

The car took a right onto the street that the house stood beside. Brenna tried to relax as she rolled into the driveway and parked. She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned back against her seat. Shutting her eyes, she took a few calming breathes. Behind her closed eyelids, her mind's eye flashed an image - a blurry image of a smirking face framed by black hair. Eyes snapping open she shouted, "No! He's _not_ REAL!" Muttering under her breath she snatched the key out of the silent ignition and threw open the car door.

Brenna walked around to the passenger's side and opened the door so she could gather the bins and boxes that she had jammed in the seat. An amusing balancing act ensued as she made her way to the door. Frustrated, Brenna stood on one foot so her lifted knee could hold up some of the boxes while she searched blindly for the house keys.

"The one time Sarah had to be at work and I needed her help moving boxes." she muttered under her breath. "Aha!" Holding the key up, she slipped it into the lock. Brenna turned the key then tried opening the door. It didn't budge. Frowning, she reached for the key again and tried turning it again. Brenna turned the knob. Still locked.

Sighing loudly, she turned and put the boxes in her arms down. For several minutes Brenna turned and twisted both key and doorknob but to no avail. Kicking the door, she pulled out her cellphone and dialed Sarah's number. She counted how many times the line rang before Sarah answered.

"Brenna? I can't talk long. I'm still at work. What's up?"

"Your aunt's house won't let me in." Brenna groused as she passed in front of the door.

Sarah laughed. "Are you sure you're using the right key?"

"Sarah, the key wouldn't fit in the lock if it wasn't the right one. And it is currently in the lock." Brenna answered testily.

"No need to get snappy." Sarah retorted. "Um - how long have you tried unlocking it?"

Glancing at her wristwatch, the ginger answered, "Maybe ten minutes."

A sigh over the phone made Brenna hold it away from her ear in irritation. When Sarah started talking again, she brought it back. "- off work for another twenty minutes. And it'll take maybe another thirty minutes to get back to the house. Keep trying to get in or hang out outside until then. Okay?"

Looking up at the sky in resignation, Brenna nodded. "Fine. See you then."

"Bye! Hope you can get in."

"Me too. Bye, Sarah." She snapped the red phone shut and stuffed it back into her pants pocket. Turning to face the door again she scowled. "I'll let Sarah deal with you later." Brenna's gaze fell on the boxes still sitting on the ground. Moaning she bent to pick them up again. "Might as well stick these back in the car." As she straightened, Brenna saw the curtains over the door's window move.

Cautiously, she peered into the window. Heart pounding in her head, Brenna envisioned some creeper-robber popping up on the other side. Eyes adjusting from the brightness of the outdoors to the darkness of the dim room inside, Brenna saw - nothing at all. The room was just as she had left it before leaving for the college campus.

Stepping back and shaking her head at her own overactive imagination, Brenna said, "It was probably just the air conditioning moving the curtains or wind coming in from an open window." Tilting her head, she thought about what she had just said. "Open window - " Setting the boxes down again, Brenna walked around to the backyard.

Head tilted back, she looked at the second story windows. Those were closed. Hoping against hope, she looked at the first floor windows. Those were closed too. Sitting down on the porch steps with a huff, she rested her chin on her fist while propping her elbow on her knee. "Well, it was worth a try."

Blue eyes glanced lazily at the glass doors that connected the kitchen to the porch. Perking up once more, Brenna hopped up and rushed to the door. Hand resting tentatively on the handle she whispered to herself, "Please, let me have forgotten to lock this door before leaving." Biting her lip, she pulled the handle down. Locked.

"Aaaww! Come on!" Throwing her hands up in the air, Brenna turned and stomped off of the porch and made her way back around to the side of the house were her car and boxes waited.

Determining that there was no way she was going to get into the house until Sarah returned in the next - glancing at her watch - forty-five minutes, Brenna retreated to her car. Closing her eyes for a brief nap, she could have sworn she heard low snickers and chortles but once again she wrote it off as just her imagination.

~*T*~*G*~

Knocking on the window caused Brenna to jerk away, bumping her knee on the steering wheel. "Ow! Damnit." She hissed irritably. Glancing out her car window, she scowled at Sarah's laughing face.

"Yes, it's so hilarious watching your friend nearly die of fright and handicap herself." Brenna grumbled as she opened her door and slid out.

"Don't be grumpy because I managed to scare you." The brunette giggled as she flounced over to the door. "Besides, if you handicapped yourself and then died of fright, it wouldn't matter if you couldn't walk anymore."

"Oh, you're so funny." Brenna felt a smile tug at her lips even though her voice tried to remain irritated.

Sarah held out her hand as she peered into the window at the den. "Let me try using the spare house key that you used. I can't imagine why it wouldn't work." Brenna handed over the key before crossing her arms over her chest. The brunette stuck the key into the lock and turned it. Smirking back at Brenna, she said, "You know - I'm going to join you in death, but this time of laughter, if this door opens on the first try for me."

Shrugging, Brenna said, "It will only prove my new-found theory that the house likes you more than me."

"Even though my stuff goes missing every time I turn around?" Sarah countered as she turned the doorknob. "I think the house is eating my stuff." Pushing the door, it swung open. "Well! What do you know!"

"Yeah, yeah." Brenna rolled her eyes and walked back toward her car. "Now that you're here, help me get this stuff inside and then I'll start making your dinner."

Laughing to herself, Sarah followed. "Maybe the house _does_ like me better."

Joining in her friend's laughter, the ginger wrinkled her nose. "Shut up, Sarah. Or else I'll poison your food and put peaches in it!"

Sarah shuddered. "Poison it. But absolutely not - under no circumstances - will you put peaches _in, on, or anywhere near_ my food."

Gathering the boxes from the front seat, again, Brenna laughed. "I'll never understand your aversion to peaches."

The pair walked back into the house, Sarah was a bit more subdued. When she finally answered Brenna, she shuddered again. "Just because of a stupid game I played years ago."

~*T*~*G*~

"Seriously? Again?" Brenna looked up from washing the dishes from dinner as Sarah shouted from her room.

"What's missing now?" Brenna called to her friend.

Sarah's footfalls hurried down the hardwood-floor hallway. Coming to a halt at the top of the steps she said, "My copy of _Phantom of the Opera_."

"Book or movie?"

"Book." Sarah answered. "I _know_ I didn't take it out of my room!"

Brenna dried her hands on a towel before walking toward Sarah. "I'll come help you look." A teasing smirk lit up her face. "You know, if I find it I'm going to die again - only this time of laughter."

"Har, har." Sarah playfully punched her friend in the arm. They entered Sarah's room and began looking under, behind, and above things.

Rocking back onto the balls of her feet, Sarah sighed wearily. "This is getting to be old."

Tossing some pillows back on the window seat, Brenna sat down beside them. "How long has this been going on?"

"Ever since - "

_Bang!_

Both girls looked at each other wide-eyed. "What was that?" Brenna whispered. Before Sarah could open her mouth to answer, another loud noise had them leaping to their feet.

_Crash!_

The sound of something glass shattering had them both running for the door and skidding down the hall for the stairs. Sarah beat Brenna to the bottom of the short flight of stairs and she stopped so suddenly, Brenna had to windmill her arms to keep her balance.

"Sarah, what is it?" she tried peering around and over her taller friend.

Silently, Sarah walked further into the kitchen and lifted the remains of a teacup from the floor. Wincing, Brenna bowed her head and scuffed her toe against the floor. "I'm sorry. Was it from an expensive set?"

"Brenna." Sarah's voice quivered. "We didn't even _use_ this tea cup tonight."

Brenna's head lifted so fast her curls bounced around her face. Her blue eyes stared at the cup. Sarah was right. That teacup had not been on the counter with the other dishes. Brenna was always careful that dishes were nowhere near the edge, especially if they were breakable. Sarah was right. No one had tea in a _teacup_. They had used mugs.

Turning back to the shards, Sarah said, "You might want to go get the broom and vacuum. I'll pick up as much as I can and put it in a trash bag."

Neither girl dared question how a teacup had mysteriously fallen to the floor that neither girl recalled getting out. They cleaned the mess up in silence and both girl finished washing and drying the dishes.

Finally, they retreated to the den. Sarah flipped through some of her vocal lesson books while Brenna perused the shelves of books Sarah's uncle had collected. Finger trailing over the book spines, her eyes caught sight of a book on the floor, wedged between the wall and the bookshelf.

Kneeling down, she tugged gently on the book until it came lose. Holding the abused book before her eyes so she could read the title, Brenna's brows dipped in confusion. "Sarah?"

The brunette lifted her head from its bowed position. From behind the armchair sitting in front of the bookshelf, Brenna popped her head over it and reached her arm out with the book in her hand. Sarah made a mock groan as she leaned over the couch's arm to grab a hold of the offered book.

Settling back against the cushions, Sarah flipped the book over so she could read the cover. _The Phantom of the Opera_. Her smile faded and she looked back at Brenna. "Where was it?"

"Wedged between the wall and the bookshelf." Brenna answered, her expression neutral. Neither spoke. They just stared at each other. "You didn't put it there." the ginger stated.

Sarah just shook her head. "And you didn't put it there or just now pull it out."

Brenna shook her head slowly before forcing a smile to her face. "Well. The house is either haunted or one of us is lying admirably."

"Maybe I threw it at a spider and it got stuck back there." Sarah offered weakly.

Brenna stood and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe." She walked toward the stairs that led up to the kitchen. "I'm going to go practice my guitar." The young woman tuned out her friend's response. As if she were in a daze, Brenna went up to her bedroom and settled down in her red beanbag chair.

_It's not happening again. It didn't happen the first time. They said it was all my imagination._ Brenna's thoughts trailed on like that as she lifted her guitar from its case. Her fingers positioned themselves on the strings before strumming. _There was nothing there by the bridge. There was nothing there at the window. He doesn't exist. None of them exist. They don't know I'm in the area._ The tune sounded like rippling water. She didn't realize that it was the same tune she had played the night before. The tune that she had stopped playing abruptly. _We just misplaced those things today. That's all._

"Right." She mumbled, blinking slowly. "Misplaced."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Here's the next chapter for Troll Bridge! Wow! It's been a while hasn't it. =/ I've been unavoidably detained from writing much. College being what it is and I was in the school play and I got a job! Yay! =D So yeah . . . I now work from 10 pm to 12 am. *shrugs shoulders* I love my job though.**

**No fae men yet. Sorry! This is a bit slow but I figured I needed to build it up. ;) Enjoy!**

**I don't own any Labyrinth characters.**

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><p>Chapter 3: Believe Me<p>

School began and with it, the hassle that is college life. Sarah found herself running about with vocal lessons, production auditions, and drama classes. Brenna on the other hand was busy with her numerous instrument lessons and music classes. They hardly saw each other at school but when they returned to the house, their lives still didn't have a chance to slow down.

Items continued to turn up in the oddest places or go missing for weeks on end. Brenna adjusted her schedule so that she came back to the house after Sarah had returned. For some strange reason, the spare house key would not work for the curly-haired ginger. Some nights they woke abruptly after hearing a bump or a crash. No matter how much they searched for the sound's source, neither girl could find a thing.

Weariness and stress descended on the girls - to a point where speaking to one another almost resulted in full blown arguments.

The separate rooms became a blessing. When stress was high, the pair would disappear into the rooms for hours on end. Sarah would read or write while Brenna played whatever instrument she brought home.

Sarah noticed that, occasionally, Brenna would stop in the middle of practicing a sonata or etude and play a haunting melody. The brunette found herself pausing as well so she could simply listen. What Sarah did not understand was that Brenna would stop abruptly and stop practicing all together. Unsure as to why her friend did this, Sarah kept her curiosity to herself.

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna sat at the kitchen table, staring out the window into the backyard. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't hear Sarah entering the house from the front door. "Looks like my aunt and uncle have sent me a postcard." Sarah's voice called from the living room.

Turning in her seat, Brenna glanced over at her friend who was looking through the mail. "Well, at least they're having fun." the brunette grumbled. "It's a Friday afternoon and I'm bored out of my mind!"

"You could watch The Phantom of the Opera." Brenna suggested.

"Watched that last weekend." Sarah grumbled as she searched the cupboards for something to eat.

The young woman sitting at the table smirked. "You could - watch MacGyver with me. Your aunt and uncle have the entire collection. I'm already in season two!"

"Not my thing." Sarah countered, shutting the cupboard and heading to the fridge.

Brenna sighed and turned her attention back to looking out the window. "Well, I don't know what to tell you."

The brunette shut the fridge and walked over to the table. Plopping herself down into a chair, Sarah rested her chin on her folded hands. Sarah stared at Brenna while Brenna stared out the window. With a loud sigh of boredom, Sarah smiled as Brenna laughed.

"I'm bored!" Sarah declared.

"I know." Brenna turned to look at her friend questioningly. "What do you want me to do about it?"

The bored woman glanced at the window that her friend had been staring out of. Curiosity piqued, Sarah asked, "What were you looking at?"

"Just looking outside." Brenna answered, returning her attention to the window. "Remembering the stuff I used to do out in the woods behind this house, other houses, and my old house."

"Yeah? Like what kind of stuff?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Brenna answered, "Ride my bike. Build forts out of sticks and trees." The look of nostalgia disappeared and was replaced with a neutral expression. In a quieter voice she said, "Scare kids down by the footbridge."

"Footbridge?" Sarah perked up. "Is that nearby?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Brenna looked away. "Um - yes. There's a path right across the street from the house"

"Well what are we waiting for?" Sarah jumped to her feet and ran up the steps and headed for her room.

"What do you mean?" Brenna called after her friend.

"We're going for a walk." Sarah explained coming into view again. Standing at the top of the few steps, she smiled eagerly. "Go get your shoes on, Brenna."

"But, Sarah - I -"

"Are your shoes missing?" Sarah disappeared down the hall to go search Brenna's room. "I'm sure we can find them. And if not, you can always borrow a pair of mine."

Standing from the table, Brenna went upstairs to find out what Sarah was doing. Upon entering her room, she ducked as a shoe went flying and hit the wall. "Sarah!"

"Sorry." the brunette grumbled from beneath the bunk bed. "I was checking to see if you misplaced any of your shoes under here. It's the first place I'd look if my shoes were missing."

"Sarah, my shoes aren't missing." Brenna sighed; walking over to the closet she pushed the doors to the side on their track. She bent over and picked up her black tennis shoes.

A grin broke out over Sarah's face. "Great! Then let's go!"

"But, Sarah." Brenna tossed her shoes back into the closet and folded her arms in front of her. "Sarah, it's not a good idea."

The brunette tilted her head to the side. "Why not?"

"Because - some bad stuff happened at that bridge." Brenna looked down at her sock-clad feet. "I don't want to go."

Sarah frowned. "Bad stuff? Like someone got hurt or - died - at that bridge?"

Shaking her head, a look of concentration - like she was trying to remember - crossed Brenna's face. "No - no one got hurt. Not really."

"Then what happened that's so terrible?" Sarah laughed.

"I - I don't remember." Brenna rubbed her arm in a self-conscious manner.

Standing to her feet, Sarah said, "Well, then there isn't a reason _not_ to go." Smiling she jerked her head to the door. "Get your shoes on and we'll go for a walk. I want to explore those woods and see that bridge of yours."

Sarah left Brenna standing by the closet. Bending once more to retrieve her shoes, she sighed. "This is a very bad idea." Once she had tugged her shoes onto her feet, Brenna left her room. Descending the stairs to the kitchen, she then made her way down the steps to the den where Sarah was waiting.

"Come on slow poke!" Sarah opened the door and motioned for Brenna to follow.

A smile forced its way onto Brenna's face. "I'm coming." They exited the house together, pausing long enough for Sarah to lock the door.

"Lead the way." Sarah ordered in a teasingly.

"If you insist." The ginger replied wearily. The pair crossed the empty street and stepped onto a well-worn dirt path. Brenna looked around at the thick trees and foliage. "It looks like people have been keeping clear for use."

"Yeah." Sarah agreed, her attention drawn to the wildflowers and vines covering the trees. The pair continued on, pointing out flowers to each other as they went.

"Oh! And it was right over there - I was playing tag with some of the kids that lived nearby and Jacob was right behind me. No one had been able to catch me all day, but he was so close! I got the bright idea to play chicken with a tree. He and I were about the same height so he didn't see what I was doing until it was too late." Brenna laughed her amusement contagious.

"I had so much fun here in these woods." The ginger concluded in a quiet voice.

Glancing over at her friend, Sarah asked, "Then why did you move?"

Brought out of her thoughts again, Brenna met her friends gaze. "Hm?"

"If you liked it here so much, why did your family move?" Sarah asked again. "Was it for your dad's job? School? Needed a bigger house?"

Brenna's blue eyes darted away from Sarah's green gaze. "Well, you know it's just me and my parents - so needing a bigger house was never the reason." Shrugging her shoulders, the woman continued, "My school was perfectly fine. You know - private school and all. Dad's job is really flexible. He could be anywhere and it wouldn't matter."

"Then why leave?" Sarah pressed.

"Health issues." Brenna grumbled.

Puzzled, Sarah tilted her head. "Whose health issues?"

"There's the bridge." Brenna smiled and to her relief, Sarah's attention was sidetracked.

Before them stood a wooden bridge that spanned across a stream. On the banks, reeds and rushes swayed and dipped. The water splashed around rocks that protruded out of the mud.

"Wow." Sarah whispered as she reached out to touch the bridge.

"No!" Brenna grabbed onto her friend's wrist in a vice-like grip.

Shocked green eyes met frantic blue ones. "Brenna? What's the matter with you?"

Swallowing around a lump that had formed in her throat, the girl replied, "Just - just don't touch the bridge. And whatever you do - don't cross it."

"Why not?" Sarah snatched her hand back and placed her fisted hands on her hips.

"It's not safe." Brenna ran a hand through her curly hair, causing some of the strands to poof out in strange directions.

Glancing back at the bridge, Sarah frowned. "It's not structurally sound?"

"Y-yeah." Brenna drew the word out; unsure if that was what she wanted to say.

"I suppose it is old." Sarah nodded to herself. "Probably the wood's all rotted." Turning back to her friend, she smiled. "How do you propose we cross the water then?"

Brenna licked her lips glancing from Sarah, to the water, to a spot beneath the bridge, and then back at her friend. "I used to jump from stone to stone. When the water was low enough."

"Then that's what we'll do!" Sarah declared. She led the way across the stones, oblivious to Brenna's discomfort or hesitancy to get anywhere near the water.

Sighing in resolve, the ginger-haired woman stepped cautiously onto a stone. Brenna glanced over at the bridge. Her eyes lingered on a section where lots of grasses, reeds, and moss grew. She stared at it so long, that she forgot to keep moving.

"Brenna!" Sarah's voice pulled the woman out of her thoughts again. "What is with you?" the brunette laughed. "You've been out of it all afternoon. I'm going to beat you to the road at this rate!"

A smile made its way onto Brenna's face. "You'd only win cause I gave you a head start!"

"Oh is that so, Gregory?"

Hopping the last few stones and stepping cautiously onto the muddy banks, Brenna smirked. "That's so, Williams."

"Then you think you could beat me anyway." Sarah challenged.

"Oh I _know_ I could beat you." Brenna teased.

Preparing to run, Sarah said, "On your mark -"

"Go!" Brenna interrupted and started off at a dead sprint.

"Hey!" Sarah laughed and ran to catch up. Both girls raced down the dirt path and burst out of the foliage at the same time. Resting at the side of the road, they gasped for air. Shoving Brenna in the arm, Sarah said, "You - cheated."

"I - gave you - a head - start." Brenna gasped, smirking at her friend. "Not my fault - you didn't - take ad-ad-advantage."

"Fine. You win this round." Sarah straightened, trying to stretch out the kinks in her back.

Brenna glanced back over her shoulder. She could just catch a glimpse of the bridge through the trees. "Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"When you - crossed the stream, did you see anything?" Brenna asked cautiously.

Sarah turned to look at Brenna. "See anything? Like what?"

Shrugging, the curly-haired woman answered, "Just - anything out of the ordinary. Something that - shouldn't have been there."

Unsure of what Brenna was asking Sarah shook her head. "No. I didn't see anything. Did you?"

"No." Brenna's shoulders sagged. "I just thought -" she left her sentence unfinished, still staring sadly back at the bridge.

"What, Brenna?" The brunette moved so she was standing in the ginger's line of sight.

Shaking her head, Brenna smiled. "Nothing. How about we head back to the house now? We can clean up and have dinner."

"Sounds like a plan!" Sarah agreed, although she wasn't sure she ought to let the subject drop.

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna stood in the kitchen debating whether she should order pizza or just see what was in the pantry. Hearing Sarah turn the shower on, she called up the stairs, "How does pizza sound?"

"Make it a calzone!" Sarah replied. "We can swing by Blockbuster after we pick up dinner."

"Okay! Meatball calzone?" Brenna picked up the wall phone.

"Yes please!" Sarah answered.

Brenna dialed the pizza place and placed the orders. Once that was finished she headed upstairs to her room. Picking up her guitar, she settled down to get some practice time while she waited for Sarah. Lost in the sound of her guitar and the running water from the shower, Brenna lost herself once more in her thoughts.

_A shorter, younger version of Brenna ran to the bridge. Her wild hair was pulled back into a bushy ponytail that bounced as she ran. She laughed at the wind, exposing a gap between her front teeth and braces that were trying to correct them._

_Skidding to a stop at the stream's bank, she looked behind her. The shouts of the other kids as they squealed in laughter alerted her that the search party was getting closer. A mischievous giggle escaped her lips and a young Brenna slipped and slid down the muddy bank and splashed into the water._

_The cold water swirled quickly around her ankles, soaking her jean overalls and chilling her sandal covered feet. Brenna didn't care. She waded through the water toward the bridge. Placing a dirty hand on the arching wood, she ducked beneath it and shuffled until her back was pressed up against the bank and she was hidden in the overgrowth there._

_The shouts of other children made her giggle but when the sounds grew closer, she covered her mouth with her chilled hands to suppress her insatiable laughter._

"_I know she's around here somewhere!" A boy declared. "Brenna!" he shouted, holding out the 'a' in her name. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"_

"_You know we're going to find you anyway!" Shouted another girl._

_Brenna bit her lip in excitement. She waited._

_The boy sighed. "Brenna! You better not have crossed the bridge!"_

"_Yeah! That's out of bounds!" Shouted the girl that was with him. "And our parents told us not to cross the bridge without them."_

"_Pfft. _Your_ parents maybe, Jenny. _My_ parents let me go wherever I want in the woods. As long as I'm back before dinner."_

"_Oh, grow _up_, Conner." Jenny whined. "Brenna!"_

"_Come on, Bren! You're the last one anyway. You won." Conner called out. "Come out so we can start another game."_

_Brenna remained where she was. This was a new game. They just had to play it right. She waited silently. She could tell the others were getting frustrated._

_Jenny said, "Conner, what if she did cross the bridge?"_

"_Then she lost by breaking the rules." Conner answered._

"_Someone _has_ to go get her though. What if she stays out here all night? Mrs. Gregory would be so mad!"_

"_Would serve Brenna right." Conner grumbled._

"_But, Conner!" Jenny whined again._

"_All right! All right! Jeez, Jenny." Footsteps could be heard approaching the bridge. "Why do I have to find her?" Conner grumbled, loud enough that only Brenna could hear. His footsteps echoed on the wooden bridge above her head._

_Imitating the deep, scary voice her mom used when telling her the story about the trolls and goats. "Who's that stompin' over my bridge?"_

"_C-C-Conner?" Jenny sounded worried._

"_H-hey! Who's down there?" Conner shouted. "Brenna? Is that you?"_

_Stifling a giggle, Brenna replied in the scary voice, "I am the troll! This is my bridge! All who pass must pay the toll!"_

"_Brenna if that's you, this isn't funny." Conner stated, his voice trying to sound brave, but quivering slightly. "Y-you're scaring Jenny!"_

"_I told you!" Troll-Brenna answered. "I am the troll! You dare cross _my_ bridge? You must pay the toll!" She grinned. "This name - Brenna. A girl came by earlier. She paid the toll. She paid - with her life!"_

"_Conner!" Jenny sobbed._

_Conner's footsteps echoed on the bridge. "Whoever you are - leave us alone!"_

"_Conner it _ate_ Brenna!" Jenny sobbed._

"_And now, I'm goin' to eat one of _you_!" Troll-Brenna shouted. She looked around herself for a second then plunged her hands deep in the mud. Pulling them out again, her hands were covered in the brown gooey muck. "I'm goin' to eat you!" She lifted her hands so they curled around the wooden bridge. Lucky for her, Conner and Jenny weren't looking under the bridge._

_Jenny screamed at the sight of the mud-dripping hands. The girl ran off crying. "Jenny!" Conner shouted after the girl and ran after her. Brenna poked her head out, laughing hysterically at the running pair._

"_Got you! I got you good!" Brenna shouted after them, but they were too far away to hear her. Crawling out from her hiding place, Brenna walked up the opposite bank from the one her friends had been standing on. Cupping her muddy hands around her mouth like a blow-horn, she shouted, "Crybabies!"_

_Laughing a little more, she marched across the bridge. Stomping her feet for emphasis she said loudly, "Look at me! I'm crossing the troll bridge! I'm the scary troll that eats Billy-goats and crybabies! Roar!" Laughing again, Brenna stopped on the middle of the bridge. She stared into the distance, wondering whether Conner and Jenny would come back._

"_Jenny! Conner! Guys! It's just me! Brenna!" She shouted, listening and waiting for their reply. The rustle of branches and grass caught her attention. Whipping her head around, Brenna looked at the opposite side of the bridge. A sound - almost like water draining from a tub - grew louder from below the bridge._

_Brenna rushed to the bridge's railing, placed her hands on it, and looked over. She didn't see anything. Without warning, something latched around her ankles. Brenna screamed and tried jumping backwards. The grip on her ankles remained firm which resulted in Brenna falling on her bottom._

"_Lemme go! Lemme go!" She shrieked, kicking in an attempt to get free. She aimed a kick with her right leg for the hand wrapped around her left leg._

"_Ow!" someone grunted. The hands released her and Brenna jumped to her feet. She set off at a dead run. Glancing back only briefly, Brenna could have sworn she saw a squat, brown person standing in the water, shaking his stinging hands._

"_Conner! Jenny! Help!" Brenna shouted, looking forward once more. She barreled out of the woods and skidded to a stop on the empty road across from one of her friends' house. A bright pink bike lay on the roadside, waiting for her return. Propping it up again, she hopped onto the white seat and pedaled down the road as fast as she could._

_Brenna's bike zoomed down the hill. She spied a group of kids waiting at the base with their bikes. "Guys! Hey, guys!" she shouted._

_Everyone looked up at the fast approaching girl. Brenna clutched the brake as she got closer and her bike's wheels hissed in protest. "You won't believe -"_

_Conner, a boy with a mop of brown hair, stepped forward and said, "That wasn't very nice, Brenna."_

_A girl with two brown braids nodded her head, a stern expression on her face. "You shouldn't have made Jennifer cry like that."_

"_But guys!" Brenna gasped, looking from one kid to another. "There was something under the bridge! It _grabbed_ me!"_

"_Stop it, Brenna. You don't fool us." Conner hissed angrily._

"_Conner's right." The braid girl agreed. "Enough is enough."_

"_But I'm not making this up!" Brenna urged. "You have to believe me!"_

"_No we don't." The girl sniffed haughtily. "Just like we don't have to play with you anymore." Nodding to the rest of the group she said, "If you're going to insist on scaring everybody like that every time we go near that stupid bridge, then I say we don't want to play with you at all!" The girl backed her bike away from the group and began pedaling down the road._

_Brenna heaved a breath of air. "But I'm _not_ making this up, Katie!" Looking at the faces of her friends she said, "Look, I know my joke went a little far sometimes but you guys _have _to believe me. I'm your friend!"_

_Conner scowled at her. Lifting his leg over his red bike and sitting on the black seat he said, "Katie's right. We don't have to believe you. Come on guys. Let's go to the park."_

"_Conner!" Brenna called after the retreating figure as a group began pedaling away. Pleading blue eyes turned to another girl. "Hannah - you believe me, right?"_

_Wordlessly, the girl named Hannah walked across the street with her bike and entered the garage. Brenna turned to the next girl. "Carrie?"_

"_You made Jenny _cry_, Brenna." Carrie accused._

"_But - but Jenny's a crybaby. Everyone says so." Brenna insisted._

"_Yeah but no one in our group ever made her cry before." Carrie said. "We promised we'd never make her cry. Never." She hoped onto her purple bike and pedaled away after the others._

_Brenna stood in the middle of the empty street - alone. "But I -"_

~*T*~*G*~

"Brenna!" The ginger-haired woman jolted, the song dying beneath her fingers. Sarah poked her head into the room, a smile on her face. "Hey! Let's go get our calzones and a movie!"

Blinking a few times Brenna cleared her thoughts. "Right. Okay. You driving or shall I?"

"My car! My choice of music." Sarah playfully stuck her tongue out. "Hurry up!"

Brenna set her guitar back in its black case. Taking a deep breath she said to herself, "It wasn't real. They were right. Nothing was there under that bridge. Absolutely _nothing_."

Racing downstairs again, Brenna followed Sarah out the door and to the blue Ford truck that was Sarah's car. The moment the truck revved to life, "Forbidden Love" by Tom Dice blared out over the stereo. On instinct, Brenna reached for the volume knob and turned it down.

Once it was at a level she could stand, Brenna nodded. "Let's get a move on."

Sarah laughed and turned the volume up a bit more before backing out of the driveway. The truck rumbled down the hill. Brenna bobbed her head to the music while Sarah sang along. As they neared the spot that Brenna knew she would be able to see the footbridge, she tensed. Just like before, she tried to prevent herself from looking. At the last possible second, she looked anyway.

"Did you see that?" Brenna asked breathlessly, looking over at Sarah.

"See what?" Sarah peered over her shoulder for whatever Brenna asked about.

"There was someone standing by the bridge!" Brenna answered - almost worked up into a panic.

Sarah cast Brenna a funny look. "Brenna, you said a lot of people live here and that people probably still use that trail through the woods. Of course there might have been a person standing by the bridge."

The woman shook her head, sending ginger curls flying. "No! Sarah that person - it was - it was -"

"What? Who was it?" Sarah asked when Brenna trailed off again.

Sighing, Brenna turned to stare out the window. "Never mind. You wouldn't believe me." _No one ever believed me._ "Turn up the music. I love this song."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Yes, yes, I know. It's been a LONG time since I last updated. Life. School. Job. Etc. =) But, I'm back! Albeit this is a short chapter. I can't remember the last time I wrote a chapter this short. =/ I'm sorry for that. Perhaps next chapter will be longer.**

**Don't own any of the Labyrinth characters. I own Brenna and all other OCs.**

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><p>Chapter 4: Distraction<p>

Sarah watched Brenna, her curiosity growing. The ginger sat on the couch in the den, strumming her guitar. Every evening, Brenna would sit down and play her guitar. The woman stared blankly at the fireplace, just playing away.

When it rained - which it had done a few times that week - Brenna would get tense and play until she fell asleep on the couch. Sarah had found her friend passed out from exhaustion on several occasions.

One time, when Sarah had sat up reading in the den, she could have sworn she heard Brenna mumbling in her sleep. "No. Not that way. Namin, that's not the way!" With a jerk, Brenna would wake exclaiming, "No!"

When that happened, Brenna would look around with wide-eyes. Sarah would ask what was wrong, but Brenna would only shake her head and leave to go to her room.

Now though, Brenna was playing her guitar. That same haunting tune that Sarah wondered about. She wanted to ask her friend about it, but something held her back from doing so. She wanted to ask about some things her friend had said when they went for a walk a couple days ago, but, after Sarah remembered Brenna's dodging and redirections of the conversation, Sarah suppressed the urge to question Brenna.

While Sarah watched, Brenna stopped suddenly mid-phrase. Blinking rapidly, as if waking or coming back to her own mind, the ginger looked down at her hands that were still resting on the strings. A sigh and a scowl marred her features. Brenna rubbed her face with a hand.

"Sarah?"

"Yeah?" The brunette stuck a bookmark in between the pages of the book she hadn't been reading.

"Is there - a book or something I can read? Your uncle's books are a bit too heavy for pleasure reading." Brenna leaned forward to settle her guitar in its case.

Sarah tilted her head in confusion. "Well, I do. But you said you try not to read for fun unless you're on a holiday break or something."

Brenna sat up again and shrugged her shoulders. "I know, but I really don't want to work on a project. A movie wouldn't help much. I just - need to relax."

Slowly nodding, Sarah said, "Sure. Go ahead and look through my books in my room."

A grateful smile rose on Brenna's weary face. "Thanks, Sarah." She stood up from the couch and disappeared up the stairs.

Sarah settled back into her seat and folded her legs beneath herself. Opening her book, she let her green eyes fall on the words. She lost herself in the story, pushing thoughts of concern to the side.

Some time later, she briefly noted the sound of Brenna coming down the stairs. Sarah didn't look up, until Brenna asked, "Sarah? Where did you get this book?"

Looking up with a smile of curiosity, Sarah felt herself freeze - mind and body. She thought she felt her heart literally stop. She stared at the thin, red book in Brenna's hands and the first thought that finally broke through her frozen state was, _how did that get _here?

Swallowing, finding that her mouth and throat was dry, she said, "Where - where in my room did you find that?"

Brenna looked at the book then at Sarah. "It - it was on your shelf. Did you not want me to read it?"

"It's - it's just -"

"I can put it back, Sarah," the ginger assured. "I was just curious what it was about. You talk about all the books you own and read, so I just wondered what it was about 'cause I never heard you talk about a book called _Labyrinth_."

Sarah winced as Brenna spoke the title aloud. "I read it a long time ago. It - used to be my favorite book as a kid."

Brenna sat on the armrest of the couch. "Why isn't it now?"

"Just - something that happened when I was a kid." Sarah looked away. "I grew up and - you can read it - I'm just surprised it was there."

"Didn't you bring it with you from home?" Brenna asked as she looked at the book in her hands.  
>Sarah slowly shook her head. "It's been packed away in the attic with a box of toys since I left for college. I - I don't know <em>how<em> it got there."

Brenna's head jerked up and stared at her friend, her mouth set in a grim line. The pair sat in silence for several minutes more. Finally, Brenna broke the silence, "Sarah, what is this book about?"

Sarah took a deep breath and released it. "A princess and the - the -" she bit her lip. She didn't want to say his name. She even didn't want to say his title. What if he assumed she was calling for him? What if her friends from that place thought she was calling for them? They could get into trouble if they answered. That's what Hoggle had said at the very last visit.

"The what?" Brenna asked in a hushed voice, willing the brunette to answer.

"The Goblin King," Sarah whispered.

A crack of thunder outside made both girls jump in their seats. Wide hazel and green eyes turned to stare out the window between the fireplace and bookshelf. Wind whipped the tree branches outside and rain beat against the house.

Brenna was the first to laugh, breaking the tense silence. Sarah looked in shocked confusion at her friend. The ginger smiled thinly and said, "Well it sounds interesting. I think - I think I'll just put it back. Not what I was looking for."

"Yeah." Sarah nodded, feeling relieved, "That's okay."

Brenna went back up the stairs. She walked slowly down the hallway toward Sarah's room. The young woman tried to ignore the sounds of the storm raging outside. Brenna entered the room and stopped at the bookshelf beside the bedroom door. She slipped the novelette back into the spot she had found it.

Her fingers lingered on the spine of the book before falling back to her side. _Goblin King?_ she thought to herself. _He couldn't possibly be the same person. Could he?_ Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from the bookshelf and turned toward the door. "He's - he's not real."

"_Are you sure?"_

Brenna yelped and stumbled over her feet. Catching herself on the doorframe, she whirled around to look into the dark room. Gasping heavily, she searched the room fearfully. She had heard something. She had heard _someone_ speak.

"Who - who's there?" she demanded to know.

"_Maybe it's time you remembered who is there."_ With a clatter, something long and thin rolled out from beneath the bed. Brenna stared at the object, her breathing becoming shallow and short. _"Do not get in our way, Brenna. He wants to see her." _There was a pause. _"Take your gift, Brenna. You haven't played in so long."_

"NO!" Brenna stumbled backwards. She fell and banged against the closed door of the master bedroom. Landing on her backside, she tried scooting away from Sarah's room.

"Brenna?" Her head quickly turned to see Sarah rushing up the few steps. The brunette looked at Brenna then at her bedroom. "What happened?"

Brenna licked her lips and glanced fearfully back into Sarah's room. The object was still there. "I - I fell."

Sarah stepped closer to her friend and reached out a hand to help Brenna to her feet. "I can see that," she stated in concern, "but why?"

Brenna motioned weakly to her sock-covered feet. "The hardwood floor is really slippery." Shakily, she walked back into Sarah's room and kicked the object back under the bed. She turned back to her friend and smiled unconvincingly, "I guess I'll work on a project after all."

Sarah frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Brenna answered brightly as she stepped back out of the room. "I'll make dinner in half an hour, that okay?"

Sarah nodded, worry still evident on her face. The ginger smiled one last time before entering her room and shutting the door.

Sarah stared at the closed door for a few minutes before entering her own room. Kneeling down on the floor, she bent over and peered into the dark space between her bed and the floor. Sarah cautiously reached a hand under the bed. She strained to touch the object that she knew Brenna had kicked beneath it.

Biting her lip, she tapped her hand on the floor. Suddenly her fingers hit something round and smooth. Gripping it as best she could, Sarah pulled her arm out again and sat up right. Her gaze fell on the object, and she stared. A long, thin reed pipe lay in her hands. Plucking tufts of dust from its holes, she rolled it around in her hand.

"Where did this come from?"

~*T*~*G*~

Sarah sat cross-legged on her bed. The storm still raged outside the house, but her attention was focused on the slender flute before her. She briefly acknowledged the sound of Brenna bustling about downstairs in the kitchen.

Music from Brenna's iPod floated up the stairs and down the hall.

Sarah blocked these sounds from her thoughts. In her hands she held her red cell phone. _Should I call?_

Taking her eyes off the pipe, she focused on the number she had dialed into her phone. Sarah pressed her thumb on the call button and slowly lifted the phone to her hear. She listened to the ring and wondered briefly if someone would answer.

There was a pause. "This is Mary Gregory."

"Hi, Mrs. Gregory," Sarah answered, "this is Sarah Williams."

"Sarah! Oh, how are you, dear?"

"Very well, thank you." Sarah smiled.

"Are you and Brenna having a good time at school? Working hard? How are your roommates? Brenna's getting good grades and keeping up with her music, right?" Sarah rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wondered if Brenna's mom ever let up with Brenna's music.

"Yeah, Brenna and I are having a good time - and working hard." Sarah joked, "As hard as can be expected of college students."

Mrs. Gregory laughed along with Sarah, but the brunette could sense a strained note to the laughter. "And your roommates? I know Brenna was having a hard time with hers. She hasn't talked about them much when she last called."

Sarah froze before answering. Had Brenna not told her parents she was house sitting with Sarah? Choosing her next words carefully, Sarah said, "Well - my aunt and uncle are out of the country. I'm house sitting for them so I don't have any roommates at the moment." Looking around her room, she decided that it was more or less the truth.

"Oh, well that's nice! Getting the chance to live by yourself is a great way to learn some responsibility." Mrs. Gregory sighed. "Yes, Brenna was looking forward to the idea of living off campus - after all the trouble she's had. But in the end, she's closer to the practice rooms in the music hall!" Her chipper voice grated on Sarah's nerves. Was music _all_ that Brenna's mom thought about?

"Yeah," Sarah drawled. "Mrs. Gregory, does - does Brenna get stressed out sometimes?"

Mrs. Gregory laughed. "Oh, of course! Especially with her roommates. Sometimes with her grades from the non-music classes, but she manages all right." She paused then asked, "Why do you ask? Is she not doing well with classes? Has she skipped lessons or practice hours?"

"No, no," Sarah hastily said. "It's nothing like that. It's - well she - um - she's just been a bit distracted lately."

"Oh is that all!" Brenna's mother laughed again. "No, she gets like that when she's inspired and writing music."

"But - Mrs. Gregory - she hasn't written anything," Sarah insisted. "Not since the first week of school. She just sits around with her guitar for hours, playing some random tune."

There was a very long pause after that. Sarah waited. Concerned when no one answered, she said, "Mrs. Gregory? Are you still there?"

"What - what does the tune sound like?"

"I don't know," Sarah shrugged mentally. She had found that no matter how hard she tried remembering the tune, she couldn't. She only knew she recognized it after Brenna started playing it.

"Has she said anything - strange - lately?" Mrs. Gregory sounded almost frantic in her question.

"What do you mean by strange?" Sarah thought of the walk to the footbridge and when Brenna spoke in her sleep.

"Has she said anything about - trolls?"

Sarah leaned back in shocked confusion. "Trolls, Mrs. Gregory?"

"Yes. Trolls," the woman confirmed in short, clipped sentences.

"No." Sarah held the 'o' as she wondered what on Earth Brenna's mom was getting at.

Another sigh crackled over the phone. "Oh, well, as long as she isn't -"

"But why trolls, Mrs. Gregory?"

Sarah waited out the pause. The woman on the other end answered, "It's - complicated." She hastily added, "Don't ask Brenna. It's a very touchy subject and the less she thinks about it, the healthier she'll be."

"But, Mrs. Gregory -"

"I'm sorry, Sarah, but I must be going." The woman interrupted. "If that was the only reason you called, I can assure you that nothing is wrong with Brenna. Give her some time to write out the song and I'm sure she'll be back to normal. Good bye!"

"Good -" Sarah heard the click of a phone. Sighing, she lowered the phone. "Bye," she mumbled before dropping her cell onto the bed. She stared at the reed flute with agitation. "I didn't even get to ask her about the flute." Her mind quickly returned to the odd question Brenna's mom had asked. "Trolls?"

~*T*~*G*~

Sarah stood outside of Brenna's room. She rubbed a finger over the holes of the hollow reed and wondered whether she should interrupt her friend.

Dinner had been silent, awkwardly so. Sarah never mentioned her phone call or the flute she had found. She didn't ask questions about Brenna's actions. She ate and waited.

Now she stood in front of the closed door to Brenna's room and wondered whether she should go in and ask her questions. Sarah tentatively lifted a hand and rapped on the front of the door.

"Yeah," Brenna called from within.

Sarah opened the door and poked her head into the room. She spied Brenna sitting on her bed with papers sprawled out on the cover before her. The ginger looked up briefly before returning her attention the paper she was holding.

"What's up?"

"I wanted to come see how you're doing," Sarah answered as she walked over to the bean-bag chair and sat in it.

Brenna smiled up at her friend, then returned her attention to her homework. "Yeah, I'm fine. Peachy, even." She giggled at her joke, not noticing Sarah's involuntary shiver. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you did fall down in the hallway."

The young woman shrugged. "It probably sounded like it hurt more than it did." Smiling once more, she assured, "I'm fine though."

Sarah nodded and looked down at what she held. Brenna hadn't noticed she had it yet. "Okay." Looking up at her friend once more, Sarah asked, "Brenna, who is Namin?"

Brenna stilled. Setting aside the paper she held she turned to look at Sarah. "Where did you here his name?"

"You've said it - in your sleep," the brunette explained.

Brenna folded her arms over her chest, rubbing her arms through the long, green sleeves of her shirt. "He's - a friend. Or he was." Her forehead wrinkled in concentration. Shaking her head, she sent her curly hair bouncing around her face. "He's no one you know."

"Did he live in this neighborhood?" Sarah fiddled with the thin instrument in her hands.

Brenna frowned and looked up at her friend. "Why are you asking me about Namin?"

"I was just curious, that's all," Sarah answered nonchalantly.

With a grunt, Brenna turned back to her homework and attempted to ignore Sarah. The brunette waited a little longer before asking another question. "Who's health did you need to move away from this area for?"

"Sarah, I really need to get this done."

Not moving from where she sat, Sarah looked down at her hands. She decided it was time to change tactics. "Hey, I found something you might like."

With a sigh, Brenna looked up again. "What?"

Sarah held up the reed pipe and thrust it toward the girl. She watched Brenna recoil and her face change to a deadly shade of white. "Found it under my bed," Sarah explained. "Not sure how it got there. Think you can play it?"

"No," Brenna squeaked out. "I can't play it."

"You could learn though," Sarah insisted as she glanced down at the wooden flute. "You're really good at picking up instruments." Eyeing her friend, she said, "Almost like - magic."

Brenna placed a hand to her forehead. "Sarah, please, just - let me get back to work. I don't want to play it."

"Brenna," Sarah implored. "Come on. Just _one_ song. Try it!"

"No!" The ginger bolted from the bed and backed toward the door. "Sarah, I said I didn't want to. I can't. I'm not supposed to. Mom and Dad hid that thing so I wouldn't! I don't know how it got here. It's not supposed to be here! It should be broken and burned! That's what they did to it. Over and over again!" Her breath came in harsh gasps. She gripped onto her arms and Sarah wouldn't have been surprised to see cuts where Brenna's nails bite into the flesh.

Sarah stood and set the flute down on the bedside table. She walked over to her friend and took Brenna's hands in her own. "Hey, Brenna." Sarah peered at her friend's face, trying to gain eye contact. "Brenna - it's okay. Come on. Calm down."

Brenna shook her head and refused to meet Sarah's gaze. "It's not supposed to be here," she whimpered. "He isn't real. None of them are real. That's what the doctor said."

Sarah bit her lip, keeping the questions she so desperately wanted to ask in check. Right now, her friend was on the brink of hysterics. Brenna's well-being was the first priority. The questions could get sorted out later.

"Come on down to the kitchen," Sarah coaxed. "Take a break from homework. We'll have some tea and those cookies you made. Sound good?"

Brenna nodded, but she still refused to look at Sarah.

The pair sat in the kitchen with mugs filled with steaming tea. A plate of no-bake cookies sat in the middle of the table, a mediator between the two ladies. Sarah watched Brenna. Brenna stared at the brown liquid in the mug she held in her hands.

Brenna's breathing had returned to normal. She was quiet. She had disappeared into a shell of her own making and closing Sarah off completely.

Regretting her tactics and pressure, Sarah wondered what to do next. "I - I can get rid of it if you want."

Brenna shook her head, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "It'll just turn up again. It always does. I - I can't get rid of it. I've tried everything."

"_You've_ tried?" Sarah queried in disbelief. "You said your parents wanted to get rid of it. Which doesn't make sense since your mom is obsessed with you learning every instrument known to man."

Brenna shrugged. "It - I - I used it for a game I played as a kid. I got in trouble for the game and it hurt me - I'm not sure how it hurt me but the doctors said it did. So in order to make sure I didn't continue playing the game, Mom and Dad tried to get rid of it." Taking deep breath she exhaled. "But it kept reappearing. I don't know what they did to it, but it finally stopped showing up. I can't believe it's here."

Looking up at Sarah, her face contorted in caution. "You probably think I'm crazy - like everyone else did when I told them about the game."

Sarah shook her head slowly, "I'm confused, but I don't think you're crazy. I want to know what's going on with you. Why you're so scared."

Brenna closed her eyes and thought back. Why was she so scared? Simple. Nothing was simple.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Sorry I haven't posted sooner! And this is a short update. For a couple of chapters - I'm taking a risky move. This is a SarahxJareth fic but I'm also inserting my OCs. So now, I need to give my OC's backstory. =) So now, I give you Troll Bridge.

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: A Gatekeeper<p>

"_I told you about the bridge." Brenna stated, calling for confirmation._  
><em>Sarah nodded her head, searching her friend's face.<em>

_Taking another deep breath, Brenna continued, "Strange - strange things happened there. No one believed me when I said something really was below that bridge. But _I _knew. It had grabbed onto me and I knew it was there. I would go to the bridge to find it - that creature. After a while," she fell silent and thought. Sarah waited patiently for her friend to continue._

"_After a while," Brenna spoke, "I decided I was tricked myself by one of my friends and they just wouldn't tell me because I'd been too mean. Played pranks on them once too often. So - like every child who is hurt and stubborn - I continued my pranks. New kids came through the neighborhood so there was always someone to scare. I was ten when it happened . . ._

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna skipped over a log and continued to run. A smile was on her face. Glancing back over her shoulder, she grinned. They would be following soon. The new kids had heard about the bridge. They'd come.

Brenna spotted the bridge just ahead and the water swirling and babbling along the steep banks. As she skidded to a stop, dirt and leaves that littered the ground fell into the water. Biting back a giggle, she splashed into the water. Her light-blue sneakers were soaked within a few minutes of wading through the ankle-deep water. She ducked to clear her head of the stone bridge.

Once she was positioned under the bridge, pressed up against the stones, and hidden among the water grasses and rushes, Brenna waited. Her ears strained to hear the laughter of siblings running in the woods. She knew they'd come. It had been a while since she had anyone come to the bridge with her. She missed this game.

"Brenna? Brenna!" A boy's voice called for the girl.

She bit her lip as a grin threatened to come to her face.

A girl's voice followed the boy's. "David, we should go back. The others said that Brenna likes to scare people by the bridge."

"But Hayden, Brenna said she didn't play that game anymore. Besides, she said we could catch frogs in the creek!" David's voice grew closer as he spoke.

Hayden sighed irritably. "Just don't go _on_ the bridge."

"She's not even here anymore, Hayden." David's footsteps could be heard on the wooden planks above Brenna's head. She waited.

"David!" Hayden scolded.

David leaned over the railing and dropped a twig into the water. Brenna held her breath as she watched it float and swirl by her. If David turned his head just right, he would surely see her. She waited still. Hayden had to join her brother on the bridge.

Hayden was getting very irritated. She joined David and grabbed his arm. "David, let's _go_."

Now! Brenna's hands that had been resting in the mud reached up and wrapped one around Hayden's ankle and the other around David's ankle. In a loud, gravely voice she shouted, "Who's stompin' on my bridge!"

The pair screamed and struggled out of her grip. David ran off while Hayden stumbled off the bridge. Tears forming in the blonde's eyes, Hayden shouted at the bridge, "Brenna, you're so mean! I hate you!"

Brenna laughed as the girl ran off. She felt so good! She hadn't played the troll under the bridge for a long time. Ducking back out from beneath the bridge, she watched Hayden's braid bounce against her back as she ran.

"Crybaby!" Brenna shouted after Hayden and David. They were gone though. Before she could step away from the bridge. Before she could take her hand off of the stones it rest on, something wrapped around her stomach and jerked her back.

A scream tore through the air as Brenna was pulled under the bridge and back into the water. She kept falling. Nothing broke her fall. She continued tumbling.

After what felt like forever, she stopped falling. Water splashed up around her. The bottom of her jeans were soaked. Trembling and gasping from fright, Brenna looked around. The bridge was gone. The woods were gone. All around her were branches and twigs all twining together into a cave. Twisting her back so she could look behind her, Brenna saw a tunnel stretching on made up of the vines, sticks, and branches.

Looking up for the place she fell from, Brenna spied a hole where water was trickling down like a waterfall. The stones of the bridge could be seen through a veil of water grasses and weeds. She'd never seen a hole there before.

"So how do you like being scared?" She gasped and turned toward the shadows beside her. The person who spoke was hidden and camouflaged with the shadows and the tunnel walls.

"Who - who are you?" The girl shuffled back and away from the person. The person sounded like a guy. "Conner? Is that you?" The person stepped closer. "Will? Ellis?"

"Who I am isn't important," the person said. "What _is_ important is now you know what those kids feel like every time you scare them." Brenna could just make out arms folding over a broad chest. This person was shorter. Way short. "So - how do you like being scared."

"Okay, okay! I get the point." Brenna stood slowly. She hated wearing wet jeans. Jeans took forever to dry. "Now cut it out and tell me who you are."

A sigh left the person's lips. "I don't think you get the point at all."

"Yeah well - it wasn't nice. Wasn't nice when you did it and it wasn't nice when I did it. See? I get it." Brenna scowled as she stepped toward the person. If he wasn't going to step out of the shadows, then she'd pull him out. "Now, cut it out and tell me who you are!"

When her hand reached for the person, the short thing backed up, stumbling over something in the shallow water. "Hey! Stay away from me!"

"Why?" Brenna kept approaching.

"'C-cause I said so! That's why!"

Her hand grabbed for the person's flailing wrist and tried pulling. "That's not a reason."

"Yes it is!" The gruff voice was rising to a squeaky panic. "Let go! Lemme go!"

Brenna and the short person got into a wrestling match. She lost her grip on his wrist and he began scrambling away down the tunnel. Brenna lunged and grabbed for something sticking out at the side of the person's head - probably a hat or something.

"OOOOOwwwww!" The person shrieked. He fell backwards onto his bottom. Brenna didn't let go when she jolted in shock at the noise. Instead her grip tightened and she inched backwards with the person. "Owowowowowowowow! Lemme go! Lemme go!"

She pulled one last time to get the person to stumble into the light. It was then that Brenna discovered that she wasn't holding someone's hat. She was pinching the pointed end of someone's ear! A pointed. Ear!

Brenna retracted her hand like the ear was heated iron. Her gaze worked its way down from the ear to the rest of the person's head. Like porcupine quills, thick brown hair stuck up all around the head. The ears were the only things long enough to stand out right away. Grubby, dirty, muddy hands reached up to shield what Brenna could only assume was the face. The nails were long, cracked, and yellow.

Even though the face wasn't in view, Brenna could still see the short man's clothes and feet. The man didn't wear a shirt but he was so grubby and dirty that it took Brenna a few minutes to realize that. His pants looked like a burlap bag sewn together. The hem of the pant legs were tattered as if they had been through a paper shredder. His large feet were bare and the nails on his toes were like his fingernails - thick, yellow, and cracked.

"Who - what -?"

"Leave me alone. Just leave me alone!" The man started backing up, ready to run again.

"Hey!" Brenna reached for the man's head and grabbed a fistful of his hair. "Don't run off again!"

"Owowowowow! Lemme go!" The hands left guarding the face and his hands swatted at hers. "I forgot how rough you are. Ow! Stop tugging!"

Brenna loosened her grip and stared at him in confusion. "How rough I am? We haven't met before."

"Yeah we did," the man grumbled as he tried prying her fingers from his bushy hair. "I tried teaching you a lesson a while back. You kicked my hand."

"That was you!" Brenna jerked the man's head a little.

"Ow! Yes, yes it was me! Lemme go!"

It was as she jerked his head, Brenna finally caught a glimpse of the man's face. Bushy eyebrows dipped in pain and frustration were poised over yellow eyes. A brown face was pocked and scarred. Some bumps littered his forehead, cheeks, and nose. His nose was long and flaky. A wide mouth had yellow-brown teeth poking out over the upper lip. The hair from his head came down and matted into the long, pointed beard that grew from his chin.

Brenna's nose wrinkled. "Ew."

The scowl on the man's face deepened. "What do you mean 'ew'? You're not so good looking either. Now let me go!" He jerked his head back, leaving tufts of hair in Brenna's fists. He blinked a few times, holding back tears. His large hands covered his head and he moaned. "Ow," he whimpered.

Shaking the hair from her hand, Brenna reiterated. "Ew!" Glancing at the moaning and whimpering man she said, "Sorry."

"You should be." The man looked up at her and frowned. "At least it wasn't my beard. I'd have killed you or turned you into a bear or - something."

Brenna tried not to, but she couldn't help it. She giggled.

The man folded his arms over his bare chest. "What's so funny!"

"You'd - you'd turn me into a bear? I thought evil creatures and witches turned people into frogs or beasts or made them sleep for years and years."

The man grumbled and shook his head. "Only witches and sorceresses do that. Trolls eat people and turn them into bears. Well - evil dwarves turn people into bears. But I bet I could do it too! I think."

Brenna laughed again. Then tilted her head. "You're a troll?"

"Yeah!"

She shook her head. "You can't be. You're not ugly enough."

The man looked up in shock. "Not ugly enough?"

"Well yeah!" Brenna exclaimed as she squatted so she was eye-level with the troll. "You're not green. You're hair isn't hanging in icky strands on your head. You're not stupid - or you don't sound like you are."

"Hey!"

She sniffed and shook her head. "And you don't smell like garbage or barf."

The troll puffed his chest out. "Well where in the Bridge did you hear that rubbish!"

Brenna shrugged. "My mom."

The troll barked a laugh. "Well your mom knows about as much as a Billy Goat."

Brenna frowned. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be offended by that or not.

"So I guess that means you don't know that this is the Troll Bridge." He continued glaring at her but one eyebrow had quirked up showing he was waiting for her answer.

Brenna looked around again at the tunnel then craned her neck back so she could look up at the hole she had fallen through. "I thought that the bridge -"

"All bridges made my humans are connected to the Troll Bridge," the troll interrupted. Waving a hand around in a grand gesture he said, "All bridges belong to the Troll King."

Brenna's gaze returned to the troll. "Are _you_ the Troll King?"

His yellow eyes widened and he choked on his own breath. "M-m-me? Me? The Troll King! No!" He shook his head so fast his hair got tangled and covered his eyes. He reached up and tried pulling and pushing the strands out of his eyes. "I'm Namin. One of the gatekeepers."

"Gatekeeper?" Brenna, resigned that her pants were wet, settled down on the ground and sat Indian style.

Namin remained standing. "I allow people onto the Troll Bridge - if they say the right words."

"What are the right words?" Brenna frowned as she tried to remember what she had said to get the gate to open. "Did I say them?"

"Nope." Namin's lips twisted in a smirk. "Like I'd tell you and no you didn't say it."

"Then why did you open the gate? Wouldn't that be considered breaking the rules?"

Namin didn't answer for several minutes. If she was sure, she would say he had gone pale. He finally cleared his throat and said, "Yes - well - I wasn't actually going to let you be a Traveler. Just teach you a lesson and send you on your way."

A mischievous smile quirked up the edges of her mouth. "And if I _haven't_ learned my lesson?"

"You said you did!"

Brenna shrugged. "You obviously don't know anything about kids."

Namin shifted and began wringing his hands. "Well - even if you didn't. You can't be a Traveler on the Troll Bridge!"

Rolling her eyes, she stood. "Okay. You _really_ don't know anything about kids." She looked down the tunnel then back up at the hole. Turning so she was facing the dark tunnel where the water was trickling down the path, Brenna started walking.

"Hey! Where are you going? Hey!" Namin began running after her and grabbed her hand. "Didn't you hear what I said? You _can't_ be a Traveler!"

Brenna looked down at him and grinned. "Yes I can. Wanna know why?" She twisted her hand so she could lace her fingers with his. "You've broken a rule and you're not the Troll King. So if your Troll King were to find out - you'd be in trouble. Right?"

He swallowed hard. "But he wouldn't come if you call."

She frowned in confusion. "Call? Like with a phone?"

Namin spluttered. "No! You just say his name and request he come."

Brenna's face split into a grin again. "That easy huh?"

Namin's eyes widened in shock. "Y-you tricked me!"

Brenna laughed and tugged him down the tunnel. "Nope! You're just a troll."

As they hurried down the path Namin growled, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"So here's the deal," Brenna continued, "you show me around the Troll Bridge and I won't tattle. Deal?"

Namin's sigh turned into a groan. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: **Another short chapter. Sorry folks. ':) But we're getting somewhere! Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Chapter 6: The Climb<p>

_Sarah frowned and held up her hand to signal Brenna pause in her narration. "Wait, you met - a troll? And are you sure he said _Troll_ King? Not - um -" Sarah bit her lip and looked away. She didn't want to say it. She absolutely did not want to say Goblin King. She'd avoided saying his name or any of her friends' names for a long time now._

"_Of course I'm sure," Brenna retorted wearily. "I may have tried forgetting - but I know what I saw and heard. It was real." A shudder rippled through the young woman. "Everyone told me for so long that it wasn't. To make them happy I agreed."_

_Sarah watched her friend closely. There was more to the story. She was certain. Reaching for her friend's hand, she gave Brenna's hand a reassuring squeeze. When their eyes met, Sarah smiled sympathetically. "What happened next?"_  
><em>Brenna held her friend's gaze briefly before taking a deep sigh. "I led Namin down the tunnel . . ."<em>

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna sloshed through the ankle-deep water that flowed past her. She wondered where all the water ended up. Where did it come from? She had heard one time that all streams have a source. As she and Namin came upon another waterfall falling from a hole in the roof of the tunnel, Brenna stopped and craned her head back so she could look up.

The hole didn't reveal a sky but another tunnel that the water poured down.

Tilting her head to the side, she asked, "Where does that tunnel lead to?"

"I dunno," Namin grumbled as he kicked at the water with his foot.

Brenna glanced down at him and scowled. "Of course you do! You live here. Don't you show people where to go after you let them through the gate?"

Lifting his hands in the air. "Rub it in why don't ya!"

Her glare turned into an expression of puzzlement. "Huh?"

"I'm just a useless Gatekeeper," Namin ranted as he kicked the water some more. With each stomp of his foot, a small splash followed the movement. "_I _don't lead anyone anywhere. I'm not even in charge of one of the gates that are used! I'm stuck guarding a gate that hasn't been used for thousands of years because there isn't any fae activity around that gate anymore because all the faes have up and left for safer locations but we still have that gate because of some stupid prophecy that'll never come true. So those goat-heads who hate me and just because of _one_ mistake - left me to guard a useless, stupid gate where the only one who frequents it is a little girl who -"

He stopped mid rant when he noticed Brenna was nowhere to be seen. "Hey! Hey, kid! Where'd ya go?"

"Up here!" Namin's head tilted back to see Brenna had started scaling the tunnel walls. She was making her way up the tunnel where the water fell from. "Coming?"

Namin stared at her, mouth agape. He spluttered and stammered for several seconds before he shouted, "No I'm not! I'm not climbing up a ninety degree angle tunnel! That's suicide."

"It might not be a straight up shot the whole way," Brenna argued as she continued climbing. "Besides," she looked over her shoulder and grinned at the frightened troll as she said, "if I get hurt or lost without you there, I'll just call on your king."

Namin moaned and gripped his hair in his dirty fists. After a few seconds of moaning and cursing his luck, Namin shuffled over to the wall and followed Brenna's lead. "We'll be lucky if this adventure of yours leads us back to my gate." Scowling as he caught up, Namin scolded, "And it's rude to ignore someone while they're talking! _You_ asked about my position as Gatekeeper."

"Not really, I didn't," Brenna grunted as she hoisted herself up "And I wasn't ignoring you. So," she yelped when her foot slipped from its place. Hugging herself close to the wall with her hands and other foot, Brenna caught her breath and reminded herself to not look down. This was just like climbing a tree - or a cluster of rocks. She stuck her foot into another hold and sighed in relief.

"So," she continued undeterred, "what was the mistake?"

Namin, who had been shaken and frightened that the girl was about to fall, had to shake his head to clear it of all the scenarios of how he would explain a dead human girl on the Troll Bridge to his superiors - or the king. He grumbled, "Why do you care?"

"Because it bothers you and you're my friend." Brenna answered simply. She tilted her head back to see if there was any reprieve ahead from this climb straight up. It was getting to be tiresome.

"Friend?" Namin's bushy brows rose in skeptic censure. "Since when?"

"Since you're the only one who hasn't run away yelling you hate me." Brenna spied a ledge, even if it wasn't the end of the waterfall. How high up did it go? She tried speeding up her progress, but not enough that she would make a stupid mistake. "You don't hate me - do you?"

Namin paused his movements and scowled in thought. "Huh. Don't have many friends. Not since those idiots posted me on guard duty at the Prophecy Gate."

"What's the Prophecy Gate?" Brenna's fingers gripped onto the lip of the ledge. She tried pushing herself up so she could squirm onto her belly.

"That's the name of the gate you came in through," Namin huffed irritably. Surprise registered on his face when a hand was thrust into his vision. Glancing up, he saw Brenna laying on her stomach and leaning down to offer him a hand up. Cautiously, he took her hand and accepted her tug. With his feet, he propelled himself up and the pair managed to get the troll onto the floor of the new tunnel.

They leaned their backs against walls opposite of each other and panted, trying to catch their breaths. Namin continued explaining, "There's some prophecy among the faes that says something about the future bride of the Troll King coming through that gate. It's a load of rubbish. There are no more faes in that area to come through the gate."

"What are faes?"

Namin's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Wh-wha-what are _faes_? Hasn't your mom told you about faes? If she's told you about trolls - even though it was all false hoowie anyway - she shoulda told ya about faes!"

Brenna's lower lip jutted out in a pout. How dare he talk about her mom like that. Her mom was smart. "Well - are they like fairies?"

"Fairies." Namin's eyelids lowered as he stared at the girl in disgusted disbelief. Sighing he shook his head. "No. Faes are greater beings than faeries." The way he spoke of them, his voice took on an accent that was altogether unfamiliar to Brenna. She could cipher what kind of language he was using. "Faeries," he continued, "are smaller and kinda puny." He held his thumb and forefinger a couple of inches apart to demonstrate the right height. "Faeries have wings too. Kinda like bugs. Little pests."

"But they're good. Right?" Brenna tried to defend them.

Namin scoffed. "Nope. They like to play tricks. Just as bad as gnomes. Well - gnomes are worse. Always changing signs and appearing in once place and transporting you to another till your good and lost. I hate gnomes." Grumbling, he said, "Back to the first topic, faeries steal, trick, and bite. Glad I'm not on faerie duty. That stuff Gardeners use to keep faeries away doesn't stun the little buggers long."

"But what about Peter Pan? The fairies were nice to him. Tinkerbell, remember?"

Namin rolled his eyes. "Pan's kid? Pfft. As if. That kid is as much trouble if not more so. Only good thing he does is keep pirates in check. Him and those irritating faeries that follow him about are nothing but trouble. Everything's a game with them."

Brenna frowned in thought. "So - faes," she tried the unfamiliar word and found it wasn't hard to say at all. "What are they like?"

"They rule over us. All the 'mythical' creatures you've heard about in stories." Namin pointed to himself. "The king of the Trolls is a fae." Rubbing his beard he mumbled, "No - I guess he's half-fae, but he took after his mother so no one really disputes what he is.

"There's a high council thing ruled by the strongest faes alive. The high king and queen meet with all the fae rulers every once in awhile." Namin glanced over at Brenna to see if she was still paying attention - which she was. "They're the ones all concerned about the rubbish prophecy and the Prophecy Gate."

"What's the prophecy?" Brenna interrupted. Bringing her legs up so she could wrap her arms around them, she rested her chin on her bended knees. "Why do you have to guard the Prophecy Gate?"

Namin shifted, uncomfortable under Brenna's inquisitive gaze. "I - I dunno the prophecy. Not really. Somethin' to do with the next king's future queen. It ain't comin' true anyhow since no faes come through that gate. No one comes through that gate.

"_I_ have to be the gatekeeper for the Prophecy Gate 'cause of some stupid Billy Goats," Namin groused. "I was supposed to stop some fool goats from entering the Troll Bridge. Billy Goats make all sorts of problems. They're kinda like gnomes that way. Only, they give the Travelers problems more than Gatekeepers.

"I was a squire, see," Namin leaned forward as he explained his tale. "The Gatekeeper I worked under was leading some Nymphs and Naiads through the Troll Bridge and left me to tend the gate. Big responsibility for a squire - gettin' left alone like that. I had rotten luck is all."

"What happened?"

"The goats, that's what." Namin growled irritably and ran a hand through his spiky hair. "They must have been watchin' the gate for those gals 'cause as soon as my Gatekeeper left, those goats slipped through before I got the gate completely shut. So then, I had to chase after them. Only, stupid me - I left the gate _open_. I was in such a hurry to catch 'em and send 'em back, I didn't finish shutting the gate. So _more_ goats got through.

"So, when all was said and done, we had an infestation of Billy Goats on the Bridge. I wasn't tossed out of the Gatekeeper running. I was punished - but when it came time for me to take my position, I was dumped on the Prophecy Gate." Namin's shoulders wilted in misery.

"That's stupid!" The troll looked up in wide-eyed surprise at Brenna's outburst. Her face was puckered into an angry frown. "It's not like you let them through on purpose! And it not fair to keep that against you for so long!"

Namin shrugged. "That's the way it is on the Bridge."

"Well what about the king?"

"What about him?" Namin looked at her in confusion.

Brenna sighed and rolled her eyes. "You really are a troll." Before Namin could voice his indignation at her statement, she continued, "Couldn't you - I dunno - appeal to him?"

"Appeal?"

Brenna nodded vigorously. "Yeah! It's what people in fairytales do when something's not fair. They go to a king and tell him what's wrong and ask him to fix it. If he's a good king, he'll fix it!"

Namin scratched his chin through the scraggly hair of his beard. "Well - I guess it's worth a shot."

"Wait to talk to him after I leave, okay?" Brenna smiled and stood. "That way, you won't get in trouble for me being here."

"Oh." Namin groaned as he shook his head. He'd get in trouble for sure. Someone was bound to find out about Brenna being here.

"Okay. Let's keep climbing!" Brenna walked back to the ledge and peered up the tunnel. "I want to know where the waterfall starts."

Namin shot to his feet and grabbed onto Brenna's hand. "No! Let's - let's keep going down this tunnel. I'm sure it takes us to the top." He smiled weakly at Brenna's gaze. He really didn't want to climb anymore and he really didn't want her falling. He didn't want to fall either.

"You remember the way?" Brenna turned away from the ledge and Namin breathed a sigh of relief.

"You bet!" He grinned. "Come on friend, let's find out what's at the top." The troll jumped in surprise when Brenna laced her fingers around his and swung their hands between them.

She giggled. "Lead the way, Namin!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: **The moment you've all been waiting for. =) Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Chapter 7: The Gift<p>

"_Prophecies?" Sarah asked skeptically as she settled down on the couch in the den. Brenna was sitting in the lounge chair, her cup of tea cradled in her hands. "That's not normal make believe stuff of a ten-year-old kid."_

_Brenna chuckled. "Especially of a tom-boy. I only knew so much about fairy tales as Namin pointed out. My mom wanted a girly-girl. So she tried spiking my frilly pink nature with princess stuff. I was only interested in the - morbid fairytales. Like the _Three Billy Goats Gruff._" Sighing, she shook her head. "But that wasn't what bothered my parents or the - doctors I was sent to. They were more disturbed by how adamant I was that I really did meet a troll and that there was a whole world under a bridge."_

"_But you were a kid!" Sarah protested. "How could they think it wasn't something as playful or innocent as a child's game?"_

"_A kid that wouldn't stop talking about. A kid who insisted that her -" Brenna's sentence died out. She was reluctant to say it. To admit it._

_Sarah waited. She wasn't sure what Brenna was going to say, but she was sure that it was important. Drastic. Life changing. "What did you insist about, Brenna?"_

_The girl's blue eyes glazed over as she recalled something she had tried so hard to suppress. For what? So her family wouldn't be disappointed in her. That's what. "It - it was because of the trolls - that I have a special gift. I can play any instrument. Any instrument in the world. Just by touching it."_

~*T*~*G*~

Namin and Brenna continued on their way. The tunnel they found themselves in didn't have any water in it. It didn't bother Brenna any. Her clothes had a chance to dry themselves. Namin on the other hand became irritable. He kept mumbling to himself about the lack of water and that the dry sticks hurt his bare feet.

"There should be water here," Namin asserted for what seemed like the millionth time to Brenna's ears.

"Then why isn't there any water?" She looked down at her friend, hoping that the question would get him to talk about something else then his aching feet.

Namin huffed irritably. "Probably some Billy Goats set up a dam somewhere ahead."

"There are goats still on the Bridge?" Brenna's head turned so she could strain to see anything further down the tunnel that stretched forever into the darkness.

"I said there was an infestation, didn't I?" Namin groused. "Not as bad now. Most of 'em are out, but there are a few that manage to stay hidden. We get complaints every now and again from Travelers."

"What do we do if we find them?" Brenna thought of what she would like to do. Maybe she could catch one and maybe then the Troll King would let her come back. Maybe if she and Namin both caught one, he'd get a different job. One he liked.

Namin's yellow eyes peered up at the girl in confusion. "Do? We don't _do_ anything! They'd most likely figure out that you're not a Traveler and turn us in!"

"Not a Traveler, you say?" A voice questioned from somewhere ahead. "What do you think of that, Mikhael?"

"Hmmm," a second voiced hummed in thought. "I'm not sure, Stefanos. But the Gatekeeper's idea of turning them in sounds like a pretty good idea."

Namin pulled Brenna to a halt and stepped in front of her in a protective stance. "Billy Goats! Show yourselves!"

"Tsk. Tsk." The first voice, Stefanos, chided from the shadows, "Such manners. Trolls are so rude."

"Rude through and through," the second voice, Mikhael, laughed.

Brenna scowled as she tried to see who was speaking to them. "You can't be here!"

"Well neither can you not-Traveler," Mikhael reminded her.

"What would be the point of turning _us_ in if that meant you got caught too?" Brenna challenged.

Silence followed her question. Namin glanced up at her with a sly smile on his face. They might get away after all. Before either could start walking again, Stefanos answered, "Well, we wouldn't need to come out into the light. We could tie you up and drop you off at the next Gatekeeper's post. No fuss, no muss."

"Well - how do you plan on tying us up?" Brenna folded her arms over her chest. "Goat's don't have hands."

Laughter followed her statement. "Don't - don't have hands?"

"Where did you get that silly idea?" Mikhael laughed uncontrollably.

"We don't have hands she says! She's a troll in the head!" Stefanos chortled.

Brenna looked down at Namin questioningly. They _were_ just goats weren't they? Namin was too busy feeling insulted at his kind being used as a derogatory term to notice Brenna's confusion. "Listen here you goats!" Namin barked out, trying to silence the continued laughter. "Even if you _did_ tie us up and turn us in, we know this tunnel's been clogged up! You've broken a law of the Troll Bridge. 'All waters must flow unhindered.' That's a decree set down by Troll King -"

"Yes, yes." Mikhael sighed irritably.

"We know the laws and decrees made by the kings of old," Stefanos moaned. "It's just so dreadfully wet down here! Can't get my fur to dry if there's always a constant stream of water, can I?"

"No he can't, no he can't." Mikahel answered the question. "Neither can _I_ for that matter, but we've fixed the problem!"

"If you don't like being wet, then why don't you just leave the Troll Bridge?" Brenna challenged again. She didn't like to be laughed at. She liked it less than being ignored and she felt like she was being ignored.

"L-l-leave?" The goats spluttered indignantly. "Why the idea!"

"We can't just leave!" Stefanos informed her, "We wouldn't be able to see the lovely, lovely faes!"

"We so _love_ seeing the faes," Mikhael agreed. "I like the dryads and the naiads so much more than the faes. Those delightful, teasing creatures are so much easy to catch than faes though. I don't understand why Stefanos tries to go after the faes. Last two times he nearly got caught by one instead of him catching the fae!"

"Shut up, Mikhael." Stefanos growled irritably. "Giggling and squealing water and tree spirits get tiring after a while anyway."

"You just like the idea of being powerless when you play." Mikhael accused. "Not much of a Billy Goat if you ask me."

"I said shut up, Mikahel!"

Brenna looked down at Namin, she was very confused. What were they talking about? Namin wouldn't meet her gaze and kept making noises in his throat like he had something stuck in it. Rolling her eyes, she sighed. "Well, can't you find them outside of the Bridge just as well as on the Bridge?"

The goats were silent for another long spell. Mikhael answered tersely, "Yes. It's just easier on the Troll Bridge since they don't expect us. Off the Bridge, they can sense us a little better since the wood and water spirits are closer to their elements. The waters and woods of the Troll Bridge are not like natural elements. They were made differently. They're not connected to anything."

"So you catch them," Brenna pondered that for a while. She frowned. "That's not very nice. They're just trying to go visit people, right? They never hurt you any. Why scare them like that?"

Mikhael answered again, "Because it's fun."

Brenna reddened in anger. "That's not nice!" Namin coughed, but it sounded more like he was trying to hide his mumbled 'hypocrite'. The girl glanced down at him and caught this reproachful glare. She looked away again and pouted. Caught in her own trap.

"Maybe not," Mikhael's nonchalant tone agreed. "But it's fun for me."

Brenna puffed up in righteous anger. "Well - I'm not going to let you get away with it!"

"Oh? No? How do you plan on stopping us?" Stefanos queried in amusement.

Brenna snatched up Namin's hand and started running into the darkness. "We're going to find your dam and break it!" Her threat echoed in the tunnel, "Then we'll catch you and turn you into the king!"

Namin stumbled behind her but managed to catch himself from falling. "Brenna!"

"We'd like to see you try, not-Traveler." Stefanos hissed.

Hands reached out from the darkness along the walls of the tunnel. One pair grabbed onto Namin's mop of hair and the other grabbed Brenna's shirt sleeve. Namin yelped in pain and begged to be let go. Brenna twisted in the grasp of her assailant. It was so dark. She still couldn't see. What kind of goat had hands?

Her hands reached up to the grip that was restraining her. Once she located the hairy hands, Brenna bit down. Her captor yelped and released her. "Flesh eater! Flesh eater!" Mikhael shrieked from beside her.

Brenna turned on the other dark mass that was holding her friend. She kicked and pummeled her fists into the creature. Stefanos yelled in pain and fright. Namin crumbled to the ground, hands to his head as he whimpered in pain. Brenna didn't give the troll time to recuperate. She grabbed his hand again and pulled him down the tunnel.

"You won't get far, not-Traveler!" Stefanos shouted after the charging pair.

The _clip-clip_ of hooved feet followed after them from a distance. Brenna kept moving. She didn't stop moving. She was determined. No one could say she was anything if not determined when she had an idea. They wouldn't get caught. Namin wouldn't get in trouble. She would stop these bullies - just like Namin had stopped her.

"B-B-Brenna," Namin gasped. He tripped over his feet and whimpered as a dry stick stubbed his toe. "Brenna, where are we going?"

"You said that this tunnel went to the top of the waterfall." Brenna's grip tightened around Namin's grubby hand. "That's where the dam is. Right?"

Namin winced. He'd only said that to keep Brenna from climbing up the tunnel. He didn't know where this tunnel led. "Brenna -"

"We get to the dam and we can tear it apart or something. Wash the goats down the tunnel!" She grinned over her shoulder at the troll. Brenna didn't care if her friend couldn't see her in the darkness. He only needed to trust her.

Namin didn't voice that the fact that he'd lied. She'd still keep going forward. They could still flush the goats down the tunnel. He wasn't quite sure how they'd break the dam though. The pair stumbled on into the dark. Namin trained his ears on the sound of the perusing goats from behind them.

"Namin! Look!"

The troll jerked his head up to see a light filtering through a black mass ahead of them. He could hear the rush of water. They'd found the dam! Namin put on a burst of speed and quickly broke free of Brenna's hand. His rough, cracked hands stretched out until they met the sticks and dried mud that made up the barrier. With the dim light breaking through cracks and holes in the structure, Namin assessed the durability.

Brenna looked back but didn't see anyone coming. She heard shouts from behind them and, for the first time since she arrived in the Troll Bridge, felt worry creep up on her. Turning back to Namin she gasped, "Well? Can we break it?"

"I think so," he mumbled as he began wiggling some sticks loose. "Just need to find the weak spot." Namin wiggled a stick free and a stream of water jutted out.

Brenna smiled and reached for another stick. "How about this one?"

Namin looked up and reached to stop her. "Brenna, no!" His warning came too late. Brenna wrenched the stick free and instead of a stream like when Namin pulled out a stick, the whole dam began to creak and groan.

The hoof beats from behind that had grown increasingly louder with the Billy Goats' approach ceased. "What have you done?" Mikhael demanded, panic lacing his voice.

"Run! Run!" Stefanos shouted.

Water began bursting out from multiple spaces. Namin latched onto Brenna's hand and tried pulling her back from the dam that threatened to burst at any second. The girl stared at the dam with wide-eyes. She'd messed this up - badly.

"Brenna, come on!" Namin's voice and tugging on her arm snapped her out of her daze. Brenna turned and to run. Without asking, she wrapped her arms around Namin's chest and lifted him up like he was a very heavy doll. The troll yelped in protest but when Brenna's stumbling gait picked up speed, he withheld his complaints.

Brenna chanced a glance back. The dam hadn't burst yet. Why not?

Water and sticks burst in an explosion. The water that had been held back for years roared toward the fleeing friends.

Not paying attention to where she was placing her steps, Brenna tripped on a stick protruding from the ground. Namin and Brenna's shouts of alarm mixed as the girl tumbled head over heels. Namin rolled out of the way to avoid getting squished and looked up at the raging water quickly approaching.

"Brenna, hold on to something!" The troll dug his hands into the twigs and sticks that intertwined each other to make the Troll Bridge. He had learned a long time ago that flash floods were nothing to fear on the Bridge as long as you found a good hand hold.

Still dazed from the fall, Brenna didn't hear his advice. Head turning every which way for some place safe, Brenna didn't notice her danger until the first wave smashed into her. The waves submerged and battered her. She was sent spinning and twisting. Unable to breathe she tried propelling herself above the water. No matter which way she pushed herself, the water proved to be stronger.

Brenna's lungs burned. She was drowning!

Finally, her head broke the surface of the water. Gasping and spluttering for air, Brenna tried treading water. The swirling, surging water buffeted her along and pulled her under again just as she managed to take in a lungful of air. Brenna reached out for a handhold. There were no rocks to latch onto like she'd seen in movies or books. Only a continuous twist of roots and sticks.

Brenna surfaced again. A sob wrenched itself loose from her lips as she gasped. She never should have come here. Never should have played that mean trick on all the other kids. Brenna looked frantically all around her. The water had pushed her to the side of the tunnel. Her shaking hands grabbed for the wall. Her hands scraped and scrambled until her fingers slipped into spaces in the Bridge wall. Brenna stopped with a jerk and winced at the strain placed on her arms.

Coughing and sobbing, Brenna looked at the water still swirling and pulling around her. Shaking her head, she tried getting water out of her eyes that dripped down from her soaked, limp hair.

"Brenna! Brenna!" Her head lifted to see a small form clinging to the walls further down. The figure shuffled sideways along the wall.

Hope grew in Brenna's heart. "Namin!"

The troll looked up and seemed to see her. "Hold on, Brenna! I'm coming!"

Brenna nodded but yelped when her fingers slipped an inch from their hold. Fear coiled up around her hope and she shouted, "Hurry!"

Namin's pace picked up but he slowed again when the water threatened to pull him away from the wall. He had to get to Brenna. They could wait out the flood. Just as long as he could get to her and hold onto her, they'd be fine. A panicked shout caught his attention. The troll looked up to see that Brenna had been torn from her spot but had managed to gain a new hand hold further down.

"Namin, please!" Brenna's teary voice shook him. He needed to get to her sooner.

"Just - just hold on!" Namin looked around. There had to be a way to get to her. His yellow eyes focused on the churning water. He swallowed around the lump of fear in his throat and took a deep breath. With a push, he released the wall and allowed the water to drag him along.

Brenna's shriek pulled at his attention, but Namin had to focus on his goal. He needed to get to Brenna. Swimming with the current, he used his large hands and feet to propel himself downstream. Every once in a while, the troll glanced over to make sure that Brenna was still where he had last seen her. He was getting closer! Kicking with all his might, he reached the tunnel wall again and latched onto the twigs and roots.

"I'm coming, Brenna," he grunted as he started shuffling toward her. He was within an arm's reach of her. Namin didn't risk getting any closer. Stretching out a hand, he shouted, "Grab my hand!"

Cautiously, Brenna let one hand go from its hold. With a whimper she latched her hand back onto the twigs. "No! Namin, it's too far!"

The troll reached further. "Try, Brenna!"

The girl stared at him for a long time, her fear apparent in her gaze. Once more, Brenna loosened her grip and reached for Namin's outstretched hand. He focused his attention on the pale, shaking hand and stretched even further for her. Their fingertips brushed and missed. Brenna grunted at the miss and retracted her hand to regain her hold on the wall.

Namin scowled and shifted to see if he could find a way to get to her. "Try again, Brenna!"

She nodded and tried shifting closer to him before reaching out again. The shaking in her hand had lessened, but now Namin could make out the cuts and splinters that marred her skin. Rivulets of blood mixed with the water. He winced. She wasn't as tough skinned as trolls. Namin reached for her hand again.

Brenna's eyes widened. "Namin -!" she didn't finish her frightened exclamation. Her fingers that had been keeping rooted to one spot while she reached for him slipped from their place, and, once more, she was pulled under and away down the stream.

"No!" Namin agonized as he searched for her head to pop back up to the surface. He didn't see her and with each second he felt sure that she wasn't going to resurface.

Brenna held her breath as she was buffeted along. How much farther until she reached the ledge? She'd be swept over and down. There was no chance she could survive a fall like that! Namin wouldn't be able to reach her. What should she do?

Her head popped up from the water and she gasped for breath. Brenna's mind thrust forward the conversation she had with Namin. _'You just say his name and request he come.'_ The girl blinked the water from her eyes and took several deep breathes. Shouting with all her might she said, "Troll King! Help!"

Brenna felt herself get pulled under again. Too late. She was going to fall over the edge! A hand grabbed the collar of her t-shirt and yanked up.

Spluttering and gasping for air, Brenna looked around for her rescuer. The first thing she realized was that the water had receded. Almost ankle deep now. Ankle deep. The water was swirling around the ankles of someone's black boots. The toes of the boots curled up in a fashion similar to drawings of Santa's elves or fairies from her fairytale books.

Brenna's eyes traveled up the mid-calf boots to the light-brown fabric of the person's pants. Her gaze paused on the sword that hung from a belt around his waist. Brenna continued her inspection and saw a black vest with white ruffles puffing out from the 'v' of the vest's opening. Ignoring the arm and hand that held her up in a very uncomfortable manner, Brenna looked up at the face of her rescuer. At least - what she could _see_ of his face. The man wore a red mask with a beaked nose and horns that twisted up and poked through his wavy black hair that swept to the side.

All that was visible beneath the mask was his chin, mouth, and eyes. Both his mouth and eyes smiled with an amused glint sparkling in the mismatched eyes. One eye was a dark brown while the other was a lighter shade, almost a green.

"What's thes?" his voice held a strange lilt to it but there was laughter in it. "A drowned moggie?" His 'r' rolled a bit but not so much. Brenna wondered what on Earth a 'moggie' was.

"I-I'm Brenna," she explained, unsure what else to say.

"Braw tae meit ye, Brenna. Whit ur ye daein' haur aw by yerself?" The man set her down on her feet and switched his grip from her shirt to rest gently on her shoulder. "Mah nam is Yaron."

Brenna's eyebrows dipped in confusion. "You talk funny. I can't understand a word you're saying."

A rich, laugh rumbled from the man, but Brenna didn't feel like he was laughing at her. "How's this? Better?" His voice changed a little, not too much that it didn't fit the man. Brenna smiled at him. "Now, let me start again," he said. "I said it was nice tae meet you. And I asked whit are you doin' here by yourself? And mah name is Yaron."

Brenna sighed in relief. That was much easier to understand. "I'm not by myself," she explained. "I'm here with Namin."

The man tilted his head in confusion. "Namin? Who is Namin?"

"Brenna!" The pair turned down the tunnel that Brenna had swept down to see the frantic troll running toward them. Namin spotted the person the girl was with and stopped so abruptly, he nearly fell on his nose. Wind milling his arms to keep his balance, Namin tried to bow at the same time. "Y-y-your Majesty! I-I-I was just - um - you see - well -"

Brenna looked back up at the masked man. His smile was gone. "You're the king?"

Yaron dipped his head down so he could look at her. The corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. "Weel you did call me. Who did you expect tae come?"

"I didn't think - I thought you'd look different," Brenna explained. "You don't even have a crown."

Wrinkles formed around his eyes as he grinned down at her. "Ah don't wear mah crown all the time. It's a bit heavy." Bending his long legs at the knees so he was squatting in front of Brenna, he said, "You don't appear tae be a fae or a nymph. In fact, ye look mair like a human. Whit are you doin' on the Troll Bridge?" His head turned slightly so he could look at the squirming and fidgeting troll standing a ways away. "Human's aren't allowed tae travel the Bridge. So who gae you permission?"

Namin glanced up fearfully at his monarch and stuttered, "We-well you see -"

"Don't blame Namin!" Both pair of eyes focused on the girl that had interrupted the troll. Her stubborn glare fixated on Yaron. "It was my fault. Namin was trying to teach me a lesson. He was trying to show me it was mean to scare people and then I threatened to tell on him when I found out I wasn't supposed to be on the Bridge. So he was going to show me around then take me home. But we found the Billy Goats and I wanted to stop them from scarring Travelers. Namin shouldn't be punished. Those Goats should be - and me too - I guess."

Yaron stared at her with unreadable eyes. His mouth was set in a noncommittal line. He glanced over at Namin and asked, "Is thes true?"

Namin shifted on his feet and nodded slowly.

"And it's not fair that Namin gets a job he doesn't like because of a mistake he made way back before he was a Gatekeeper," Brenna pressed.

"Brenna!" The troll's voice warned her, hoping she would stop talking.

Yaron's eyes blinked, confusion swirling in the mismatched colors. "Job he doesn't like? Whit are you talkin' abit?"

"So don't punish him anymore," Brenna ordered. Clenching her hands she said, "Those goats are probably at the bottom of the waterfall. Arrest them or something. Namin caught them. You should reward him!"

Yaron cupped his chin between his thumb and fingers in thought. "You care a great deal fer Namin, don't you?"

Brenna bowed her head and looked away. "He's - he's my friend."

Yaron gave her a small smile and hummed. Turning back to Namin he said, "So you caught the goats. Where dae you work and where would you like tae work?"

Namin glanced at Brenna, who smiled encouragingly at him. Swallowing nervously, the troll answered, "Well, I didn't catch them all by myself. Brenna helped. But - uh - I work at the Prophecy Gate now. Doesn't see much traffic. But I don't care where I get placed. Just - someplace different."

Yaron's smile disappeared again. Namin began to panic, fearing he had offended. "Really, I don't mind where you place me, your majesty! Even if it doesn't get a whole lot of traffic! I'm sorry. I don't mean to offend but -"

"Is 'at the gate Brenna cam through?" Yaron cut the troll off. His voice was quiet and had a hard edge to it. Both Namin and Brenna exchanged worried glances.

Namin nodded. "Y-yes, sir."

Yaron stood, his hands clenched at his side. He stared down the tunnel and didn't look at either one of the pair. He took several deep breathes before his tensed body relaxed with a long sigh. Yaron looked down at Brenna. She jumped a little at the searching gaze. It felt like he was weighing her merit. He nodded - but she wasn't sure if she met with approval or if he was resigned to what he found.

"Ah will speak tae you abit your position later, Namin," the Troll King declared. He turned his back on the troll and bent at the knees so he was eye-level with Brenna again. Propping his elbows on his knees, he sought her face with his eyes. "Since you helped stop those goats, Ah think it only fair 'at you get a reward tay, Brenna."

Confusion caused her face to pucker. "But I broke rules."

"Och aye," he smiled kindly. "But you've learned your lesson, haven't you? Ah think 'at deserves a reward. Whit would you like? Ask fur anythin', and I'll gie it tae you. Anythin' at all."

Brenna bit her lip in indecision. Anything? She could have anything? Glancing over at Namin she asked, "Could I know what the words are to ask to get on the Bridge? So I can visit Namin again?"

Yaron's smile remained in place, but Brenna could see he was a bit sad as he shook his head. "Aam afraid Ah cannot gie you 'at. Humans aren't allowed on the Bridge. You might - get to come back someday," he assured her when she opened her mouth to protest, "but nae fur a long, long time. Is there anythin' else you want?"

Brenna looked down at the water flowing gently around her feet. She thought long and hard. Why couldn't she come back? What else could she possibly want if she couldn't come and see her friend? She could ask for friends - but, she could always make friends at school or in the neighborhood. What could a ten-year-old ask for? Toys? Candy? None of those things interested Brenna.

She frowned as she concentrated and deepened her thoughts. Brenna's mind turned toward her family. Could she ask for something for them? Her mom and dad seemed to be perfect. Without worries. The only thing that seemed to trouble them - that troubled Brenna - was - her grandpa.

Mommy always fretted - when she thought Brenna couldn't hear - about how Grandpa doted on Brenna's aunt and cousins. Everything they did was perfect. He didn't treat Brenna and her parents the same way. He ignored Brenna. He criticized Brenna's actions. The way her parents brought her up. His words hurt. Brenna wanted his approval. More than anything. That would make her happy. That would make her parents happy.

The one thing Grandpa loved - more than anything - was music. He was a brilliant pianist. No one played as well as he did. Her cousins didn't even like the beautiful grand piano that sat in their large dining room. Brenna could sit for hours to listen to him play. Maybe - maybe he'd like Brenna if she could play it too.

Brenna's frown deepened further and tears came to her eyes. That's what she wanted.

Blinking a few times, sniffling, and wiping her hand over her eyes, Brenna dared to look up. Yaron looked concerned. A timid smile came to her face. "Could you - could you make me really good at music?"

A grin lit up his exposed face and his eyes danced with happiness. "Och aye, Ah can. Here." He reached into a pocket inside his vest and withdrew a long, slender reed pipe. He held it out to her and in a very serious voice asked, "Brenna, dae you accept thes gift?"

Brenna reached out her hand to take it, but paused when he jerked it back just an inch. Her eyes met his. He expected an answer before he gave it to her. Nodding, she whispered, "Yes."

He smiled at her then offered it to her. This time, when her fingers closed around it, he didn't take it from her reach. Suddenly, Brenna felt warm all over and very sleepy.

When he spoke again, his voice sounded distorted and far away. "It's time fur you tae go home, Brenna. Aam going tae send you back tae the gate's entrance. We'll see each other again someday."

She blinked slowly, her head nodding. "Okay."

That warm chuckle enveloped her like a blanket. "Cheerio, Brenna."

~*T*~*G*~

"_When I woke up, I was lying down on my back beside the river that goes under the bridge." Brenna rubbed her arms. "My hands were scratched and there were a lot of splinters in them. My clothes were damp. I thought - for a minute - that I'd dreamed it all. But when I sat up, I felt something poke me and when I looked down - there was the flute in my pants pocket._

"_It was late, so I raced back home. Mom and Dad were frantic since I'd stayed out way too late. They grounded me for 'lying' about where I'd been and what I'd been doing and with who. The time I spent inside gave me a great chance to practice playing the flute." Brenna sighed wearily. "I asked to learn the piano - Mom agreed._

"_I got so good that people started asking me how it was that I was so good. I told them it was because of the gift I got from the Troll King." Pain marred her features as she remembered. "At first, people just laughed it off. It wasn't until I turned thirteen that my parents and teachers grew concerned with my insistence. Grandpa - he - he was the one who declared I should see a psychiatrist."_

"_What did the shrink say?" Sarah felt dread well up inside her._

_Brenna shuddered. "He said that I was sick and that - I had to leave that neighborhood. He told me it never happened. That I'd made up the whole story to substitute the loss of my real friends because of my pranks and bullying. I came up with the idea that my gift for music wasn't because of hard work but because of some fanciful man that I wanted to please since I couldn't please my grandparent._

"_So - we moved away. Mom and Dad tried to destroy the flute that - _he_ - gave me. It kept coming back. They'd confiscate it every time. One night, when I found it sitting on my music stand in my room, I took it and stuffed it in an old flute case that I didn't use anymore. I told it that I didn't want to see it ever again. That it had made my life miserable." Taking a deep, calming breath, Brenna said, "It never showed up again. That is - until tonight."_

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>

What's thes? – What's this?

A drowned moggie? – A drowned kitten?

Braw tae meit ye, Brenna. Whit ur ye daein' haur aw by yerself? – Nice to meet you, Brenna. What are you doing here all by yourself?

Mah nam is Yaron. – My name is Yaron.

**Author's Note:** Okay, imagine a Scottish accent 'cause that's what I picture Yaron having. (Bowie has a bit of a Cockney accent according some experts so I wanted to give Yaron an accent.) He can have a Scottish brogue or he can try for an accent that is a bit more understandable. (Apologies to any of my Scottish readers - I don't mean to offend or anything. I thought it would be cute/funny if Brenna couldn't understand his accent.)

Well . . . Please lae a review! Thenk ye! =D


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: It's Time

When Brenna finished her story, the pair sat in silence. Sarah quietly mulled over everything her friend had told her while Brenna stared unseeingly into her lukewarm tea. Eventually, Sarah focused on her friend. So many thoughts and questions swam in Sarah's head and she didn't know which one to ask first.

"You've never told anyone about this since the doctors?"

Brenna blinked a few times, coming back to the present. She looked up at her friend and frowned. "No. I was convinced everyone else would think I was crazy." Sighing, she lifted a hand to her forehead and began rubbing. "_You_ probably think I'm crazy. Or making things up to scare you."

"No," Sarah shook her head and leaned forward. "No, I don't think you're making it up, Brenna. You see I -" The brunette faltered and looked away. Dare she tell her friend? Taking a deep breath for courage, Sarah said, "I had a similar thing happen to me."

"Sarah -"

"Hear me out," Sarah insisted. "Remember that book? The one that I was shocked to see? _Labyrinth_, right? Well I wished away my brother when I was a teenager. I asked the goblins to take him away and they did. The Goblin King, he came and told me -"

"Oh my gosh, Sarah!" Brenna stood abruptly and stormed up the steps into the kitchen. Sarah flew from the couch and hurried after her friend. The red-head dumped the contents of her tea cup into the sink and whirled on her friend. "I can't believe you'd do this to me," Brenna accused angrily.

"Do what?" Sarah propped her hands on her hips. "I'm telling you the truth. The Goblin King took me to his kingdom and I had to travel through the Labyrinth. It's a maze you see and -"

"Stop it! Just stop it, Sarah!" Brenna covered her ears and shook her head. "How could you traumatize me like that with that - _thing_ - then make up a story to make fun of me? Where did you hear about the trolls anyway, huh?" She pointed accusingly at the brunette. "Did someone put you up to this? Did you meet up with one of those kids from the neighborhood that I used to know?"

Sarah sighed irritably. "Why would I do that to you? Do you really think I could be that mean, Brenna?" Brenna didn't answer. Instead she leaned against the countertop and folded her arms in front of her chest. Sarah started again, "Think about it, Brenna. A Troll King and a Goblin King? Who comes up with those kind of things?"

Brenna remained silent for a long time before she spoke again. "I still don't know if it really happened. The doctor said -"

"Screw the shrink!" Sarah walked over to her friend and gave her a hug. Stepping back, she said, "You're not crazy and I believe you. That happened. If I could prove to you I went to the Goblin City I would. I know how to call people from there -"

"You know the words?" Brenna's eyes widened.

"Only to call people from the Goblin Kingdom," Sarah corrected. "But I can't use them anymore."

"Why not?" Brenna demanded skeptically.

A sorrowful expression crossed Sarah's face and her shoulders slumped in defeat. "He was hurting my friends because they came to see me. So - I stopped calling them." Meeting Brenna's gaze, Sarah added, "I think the goblins have been coming to bother me - on _his_ orders. That's why we've been hearing so many strange noises, why these things keep popping up in places we least expect them, why stuff goes missing then reappears!"

"But if he doesn't want your friends from his kingdom to come see you, why would he be pestering you with his goblins?"

"I don't know! Nothing he does makes sense," Sarah ranted as she ran a hand through her hair.  
>Brenna frowned as she thought. "Okay, so - assuming I believe you're telling the truth and not trying to trick me or something - what happened that has a Goblin King pissed off at you?"<p>

"Come on up to my room and I'll show you the book while I explain," Sarah invited her friend. "And I _am_ telling the truth. You'll just have to believe me."

Brenna tensed at her friend's words but instantly relaxed. She offered the brunette a smile and nodded. "You've got it."

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna looked up at Sarah. "So what do we do?" The brunette had finished telling her story several minutes ago. The rain outside had slowed to a drizzle and thunder rumbled miles away.

"What can we do?" Sarah shrugged. "The goblins are messing with us and - _he_ is a jerk. I think the only way to make them stop bothering us is if we went to the Goblin City and told him off." She snorted and shook her head. "Like that would work."

"What if it isn't goblins?" Brenna suggested. "What if the trolls are messing with us?"

"Why, though? Are then even allowed to leave the Bridge?"

Brenna lifted her hands and shook her head. "How would I know? I don't exactly have the words to bring Namin here so we could ask."

"Maybe they're the same words!" Sarah leaned forward, her hazel eyes sparkling in excitement. "Maybe you need to wish him here!"

"It wasn't a wish that brought Yaron to me when I was in trouble," Brenna pointed out. "I just said his name and what I wanted him to do."

Sarah hummed then pointed at Brenna as she said hopefully, "Wishful thinking?"

"We'll never know I guess."

"You mean you don't want to try it out? See if it works?" Sarah asked, her head tilting questioningly.

Brenna shook her head and stood. "No. I - I have a bad feeling about all of this. There has to be more of a reason for why - for why _they_ are trying to contact us or mess with us." She rubbed her hands together and looked out the bedroom window. "I think - I think we should just ignore them. Pretend nothing is happening."

"But, Brenna," Sarah lifted the book and waved it as she protested, "we've _been_ pretending! They're still around."

"No, we've acknowledged them." The ginger folded her arms in front of her chest. "Now, we ignore them. It all went away the first time. They'll stop. We just have to be stubborn – more than them."

Sighing, the brunette fell backwards onto her bed. "Sometimes, running from your problems isn't the answer."

Brenna didn't answer. Instead, she turned and walked out of the room. When Sarah heard the other bedroom door close, she rolled over and groaned into a pillow.

In the other room, Brenna wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "Might not be the best answer," she mumbled to herself. "But it's protected me this long." She walked over to the beanbag chair that rested, slumped against the wall. With a sigh, Brenna plopped down onto the cushion and ran a hand through the curly mass of hair around her face. As she blew a strand out of her face, her eyes fell on the flute that Sarah had left on the bedside table.

Cautious, shaking hands reached for the reed flute and picked it up. Turning it over in her hands, Brenna bit her lip in uncertainty. What to do? She hadn't played it in so long -. Brenna lifted the embouchure to her lips and sighed out a breath. A crisp, clear note sang out like a familiar friend. Without bringing the flute down from her lips, Brenna placed her fingers over the holes and quickly drowned herself in the music she was playing.

Nothing felt more right.

~*T*~*G*~

A wild-haired, short creature stumbled up the gray, stone steps of a castle passageway. Light flooded through tall, stained-glass windows and cast colorful shapes on the floor beneath his bare feet. In his haste he skidded on the slick floor and slammed face first into a door. He stood and shook his head; his flappy ears slapped his face as he did so.

"Thes better be important," a voice said on the other side of the door. "Come in."

The creature pushed the door open with a grunt and poked his head in. "Your majesty!"

"Whit?" A man with shoulder length, black hair stood by an open window, his back to his subject.

"She's - she's started playing again."

Turning, the masked man's smile could be seen quirking his lips upward. "Och aye. I ken." Turning back to the window once more, the man ordered, "It's time. Go."

"Yes, your majesty!" The creature bowed hastily and spun to leave - running into the wall before stumbling out of the door.

The masked man sighed and whispered, "Lit the prophecy come tae pass." Closing his eyes, he listened to the familiar tune as it floated over the wind and mixed with the sound of falling water.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Enter the Bridge

"Really? Well tell Toby that I said congratulations," Sarah said as she tucked her cell phone between her ear and shoulder. Picking up another book before setting it down. "Yeah, there's been a lot of rain these past two days." She glanced up to make sure the librarian hadn't spotted her yet.

She took her phone in her hand and switched it to the other side of her head. "Well, Grandma Betty is just going to have to wait until Thanksgiving break - Irene - no! I don't have -" An exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes later, Sarah was leaning against the bookcase and sliding down until she was seated on the floor. "Fine. Yes. I'll be there." Sarah grimaced. "Goodie. Well, can I at least bring a friend?"

Sarah looked up in time to see a curious passerby. She flashed a smile before standing and walking deeper into the library. "Just Brenna. You remember, Brenna Gregory. Yes - the musician friend." A genuine smile of relief spread across her face. "Awesome! We'll come by tomorrow around six. Okay, okay - _I'll_ be there at 5:30. Sure. Bye."

Snapping her cell phone shut, Sarah puffed her cheeks out as she sighed.

"No talking in the library!" An elderly woman hissed as she stepped into the row of books to reshelf some returned books.

Sarah whispered an apology before sidestepping the woman and making a beeline toward the library's entrance.

~*T*~*G*~

"So, we're going over to your house this weekend - why?" Brenna looked up from the cutting board. She set aside her knife and swept the celery chunks into a red bowl.

"Grandma Betty - Irene's mom - wants to make me a new skirt for Christmas," Sarah explained as she snuck a potato chip off of her friend's plate. "And, since Grandma can't wait until she sees me for Thanksgiving break, I have to go visit for dinner so Irene can take my measurements."

"I thought you liked your family," the ginger teased.

Sarah shrugged. "Yeah, but Irene is just using this as an excuse to tell me about _another_ guy she thinks I should go out with."

"Ever consider she may really be inviting you over for dinner? Does she have to have an ulterior motive?"

"Yes," Sarah used another pilfered potato chip to point at her friend to emphasize her words. "Thinking like that roped me in for a whole Spring Break of meeting co-worker's sons that just so happened to be 'gorgeous' and majoring in fields that would be high paying jobs."

Brenna laughed as she sprinkled some dill weed into the bowl. "What's so bad with that?"

"It shows me what Irene thinks would be a good marriage," Sarah mumbled as she munched on her chip. "And yeah - they were nice guys and all - but something _weird_ always happened on our 'dates'."

A drizzle of Worcestershire sauce followed the dill. "What kind of weird?"

"Like interference weird," Sarah stated as she glared up toward the hallway.

With a sigh, Brenna started stirring the contents of her bowl. "Ignore them."

"Hard to do when they dump a jar of _peach_ preserves from a _tree_!"

Brenna winced and turned to look at Sarah with sympathy. "Peach preserves?"

"They're nothing if not ironic," Sarah sat back in her chair, arms folded over her chest. "Then there were the mysterious biting insects that swarmed that other guy. I really wi- I mean I really wanted fairy pest spray right then."

"Tuna's ready for your sandwich," Brenna said as she set the bowl down in front of her friend.

"Aren't you going to have any?" Sarah asked. She took her fork and began dolloping the shredded tuna mixture onto a slice of bread.

"I'm going to add mustard to it once you're done." Brenna smiled. "So peaches and fairies?"

Sarah chuckled darkly. "Yeah - the moms of my unfortunate dates warned off every other coworker so no one would get stuck with 'Irene's jinxed step-daughter' which was nice for me. A summer free of matchmaking." Rolling her eyes and moaning dramatically, Sarah said, "I just wonder where she dug up this new sap she's going to set me up with."

"Maybe she made you an eHarmony account," Brenna joked.

"Don't you dare give her ideas when we go over!" Sarah slid the bowl over to her friend. The pair laughed at the thought of anyone giving Irene pointers. "You are coming, right?" Sarah looked beseechingly at her friend over her sandwich.

Rolling her green eyes at her friend's question, Brenna nodded. "Yes, Sarah, I'll come."

"Sweet!" Sarah took a bite from her sandwich. "I have to be there at 5:30 - so if you could get there at the same time or before six?"

"I'll probably get there closer to six," Brenna agreed as she set the other slice of bread on top of her sandwich and picked up a knife to cut her sandwich in half.

~*T*~*G*~

Sarah glanced at her watch and scowled. Her gaze lifted from her wristwatch to glance out of the storefront window. One of the girls working at the register followed the brunette's gaze and moaned. "Raining cats and dogs out there."

"And I forgot my umbrella," Sarah sighed.

"What? Why? Didn't you watch the weather report?"

"No, Hannah. Besides it was only sprinkling earlier." Sarah stepped away from the counter. "Well, I'm going to clock out."

Hannah waved and bade the brunette farewell. Sarah went to the back room and grabbed her backpack and raincoat. Pulling it on, she waved once more as she exited the store. Sarah made a mad dash to her car and wrestled with her keys and the lock. Jumping into her seat, she slammed her door shut and tossed her backpack to the back seat.

Her cell phone began to buzz in her pants pocket. Sarah dug into her jeans for her phone and pulled it out as she stuck her key in the ignition. "Hello?" she answered the phone without checking the caller i.d.

She reached for her seatbelt and sighed. "Yes, Irene, I'm coming. I'm sorry I'm running a little late - I couldn't - a girl needed me to fill in! She's a single mom and -" Sarah bit back a growl of frustration and chose to smack her steering wheel instead. "No that was me hitting my knee on my steering wheel. Why? No reason. Yes. Yes, I'll be there in," she stopped to check her watch before she answered, "thirty minutes. What? You're kidding." Sarah leaned forward and let her forehead bang against her steering wheel. "Okay. I'll be there in an hour. I'll call Brenna and let her know. Yeah. She said she'd be there close to six. I'll try to make it quick. Okay. Bye. Yeah. Bye."

Hanging up her cell phone, Sarah sat up and reached for the gear shift as she dialed a number into her phone. She turned in her seat so she could peer out of her rear window. "Come on, pick up." Sarah backed out of her parking space and pressed her foot down on the break so she could shift gears again.

Sighing and casting her eyes to the roof of her car, Sarah drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Driving toward the parking lot's exit, she looked for on-coming traffic. "Hey, Brenna, this is Sarah. So I had to stay at work a bit late because a girl couldn't find anyone else to fill her shift. Now I have to swing by the house to make sure a package for my aunt and uncle doesn't get soaked. Apparently the stupid front porch doesn't have an awning. Go figure. I'll probably pull into the driveway at my folk's house right after you. See you then! Bye."

Sarah hung up her phone and tossed it to the passenger's seat. Pulling out into the lane, she began the drive to her relative's house.

Sarah was feeling pretty confident that she'd make it to the house in record time when she pulled onto the winding, mountain road that led to her aunt and uncle's house. Glancing down at her dashboard, she wondered what the blinking, dinging light meant. Shrugging it off, she willed her car up the road. It'd be fine and she could ask her dad to look at it later.

She really began to worry when the car began to sputter and cough. "Come on, just a little further!" Then the car died. "No!" Sarah tried turning the car off and turning it on but the engine refused to come alive. Slumping in her seat, she sighed. She didn't want to check under the hood. She wouldn't even know what to do.

Glancing at her phone, she decided to call Brenna once more. Redialing her friend's number, Sarah growled in frustration when she got the answering machine again. "Hey, Brenna, it's me again. So, my car broke down. I'm gonna have to walk the rest of the way to the house. I'm -" Sarah paused to glance out the window. She could barely make out the neighborhood's woods that grew beside the roadside. "I'm close to the foot bridge. Don't worry, I'll try jumping across the stones. I won't step on the bridge. I'll be fine. Could you come by the house and pick me up? Thanks. Bye."

Sarah turned in her seat and grabbed her backpack. "Well," she grumbled to herself, "looks like I'm going to get soaked." Pulling her raincoat's hood over her head, Sarah readied herself to venture into the downpour. Before going very far she locked her car door with a click of a button.

The brunette ran into the woods, thankful that the leaves protected her from a thorough drenching. When she reached the riverbank, she was disheartened to see the water level had risen. She couldn't even see the stepping stones Brenna had shown her. Sarah stood, shifting her weight, as she debated what to do. The water had risen pretty high and was moving pretty fast. She might be able to wade across - but she might end up falling and getting really wet. Sarah glanced at the stone bridge and shrugged. What was the worst that could happen?

Sarah's sneakers squelched in the mud as she ran to the edge of the bridge and took her first few steps onto the surface.

She froze when she heard a loud, stone-against-stone grating sound. Sarah looked down at the river, still swirling beneath the bridge. A hand clasped around her wrist and jerked her attention downward.

"Who goes stomping over my bridge?"

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna slipped out of the practice room with a sigh. She should have told the guy she was accompanying that she had to leave half an hour ago. Of course he wouldn't have listened anyway.

She walked over to her music locker and slid her violin case out so she could reach the shoulder bag that she'd stuffed in there earlier. Brenna closed the locker door as she slung her bag over her shoulder. Making her way down the hallway, she was surprised when she looked out the large floor-to-ceiling window. Torrential downpour was right. Brenna hurried down the grand staircase to the lobby below.

She made her way over to the umbrella rack and picked up a dry, striped umbrella. Brenna ducked outside and unfurled her umbrella. Grimacing at the puddles she would have to avoid in order to get to her car, Brenna jogged to the parking lot across from the campus music building. She wrenched the door of her car open so she could toss her backpack into the passenger seat and slide her violin case gently into the back before she hopped in herself.

Brenna dropped her wet umbrella to the floor on the passenger's side before reaching for her phone that was somewhere in her bag's pockets. She half-expected that there would be a message on her phone from Sarah. Brenna was surprised when there were two.

While she caught her breath, she listened to the voicemail and shrugged at the first message. When the second played, a frown wrinkled her face. Brenna deleted both messages and quickly turned on her car. While she began pulling out of the parking lot, she dialed Sarah's number. No answer.

"I'm on my way to pick you up, Sarah. Give me a couple minutes and I'll be there. Have you called your folks to let them know we're running late? See you at the house. Bye." Brenna stuffed her phone in her jacket pocket and concentrated on the very wet road.

Ten to fifteen minutes later, Brenna drove past Sarah's dead car. She glanced nervously at it and winced. She really hoped Sarah had made it to the house all right.

Brenna's car rounded the bend in the road and she easily pulled into the driveway. There weren't any lights on in the house. Had the power gone out? Brenna left her car idling while she dashed to the door that would let her into the den. Reaching for the knob, she discovered it was locked.

"Sarah always unlocks it for me," she murmured as she jiggled the handle. Brenna rang the doorbell and knocked on the glass. Peering into the dark room, she didn't see any movement from within.

Shrugging, Brenna ran around the house to the front. Maybe Sarah had left the front door unlocked. Brenna halted in her footsteps and stared in open-mouthed horror. The package was still sitting on the front step. The sickening realization that Sarah had never made it to the house washed over Brenna as she ran for the door and banged her fist against it.

"Sarah? Sarah are you there?" She tried the doorknob and once more, it was locked. Brenna scooped up the package and hurried back to her car. Dumping it in the backseat with her violin, Brenna then shut her car off and jerked her keychain from the ignition. She ran back to the house. _They aren't real. Nothing's happened. Sarah just locked the door. Just didn't see the package. The door will open for you. Nothing's wrong. Nothing's happened._

Her hands shook so much that she dropped the keys a few times before she managed to slide the house key into the slit. "Come on, come on, come on!" She begged, "Please work for me today!" To Brenna's surprise, the deadbolt clicked and when she turned the knob, the door swung open.

She didn't spare a moment to gloat over the victory. Running into the house, she reached for the light switch and flicked it up. The lights turned on. The power wasn't out. "Sarah?" Brenna dashed up the steps from the den to the kitchen. No one. She walked into the living room. No one.

"Sarah, are you here?" Brenna took the steps up to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. She went to Sarah's room at the end of the hallway first and looked in. No one.

_The bathroom. The door is closed._ Brenna turned to the bathroom door and knocked cautiously. "Sarah? You in there?" When no one answered, Brenna pushed the door open. Again. No one.

_Did she go into her aunt and uncle's room to check on something?_ Brenna felt the panic rising up and clenching her throat. She turned to the door that she had never opened for privacy's sake. Brenna poked her head into the dark room. "Sarah?" No answer once again.

"Sarah, are you in my room?" Brenna hurried down the hallway to her bedroom and looked in. Her friend wasn't there either. _The garage?_

Back down the stairs she fled to the den. She opened the door that connected the house to the garage and discovered nothing new. Brenna stepped back and shut the door. Leaning against the couch she shook her head. Sarah wasn't anywhere in the house.

"Phone," she muttered as she dashed back up the steps to the kitchen. Brenna lifted the house phone from its cradle and dialed the Williams' residence. Biting a nail, she waited for someone to answer.

"Hello?" She perked up. "Yes, this is Brenna Gregory, I'm Sarah's friend. Toby? Hey, yeah, is your mom there? Great, could you go get her?" Brenna shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she waited. "Hi, Mrs. Williams!" She glanced at the digital clock on the microwave and winced. It was 6:25 - almost half an hour later than they said they would be there for dinner.

"Yes, have you heard from Sarah? You see her car broke down and I was wondering if she called you to come pick her up?" Brenna began to pace as much as the phone's cord would allow her too. "She didn't? Well, it wasn't far from the house. No. She walked. Yes ma'am." A puzzled expression wrinkled Brenna's face. "N-next weekend? But Sarah said we were having dinner at your house this weekend." Her face drained of all color. "Oh. I see. So Sarah hasn't called you? Okay. Um - I'm - I'm still at school." She grimaced at the lie. Why concern Sarah's parents when the possibility of Sarah being taken by – goblins or trolls could be the situation? It wasn't like they could alert authorities to track down a girl who was in another dimension!

" I just checked my phone and saw that she'd left a message," she explained. "Yes, I'm on my way to the house to check on her now. Right. I'll be safe. Thank you. S-see you next Saturday, Mrs. Williams. Okay. Bye."

Brenna listened to the line disconnect and lowered the phone from her ear. She stared unseeingly at the floor as the phone beeped and droned about dialing a number or hanging up. Sarah wasn't here.

Without bothering to hang up the phone, Brenna dashed out of the house and into the pouring rain. She ran across the street and into the woods. Slipping and sliding on the muddy ground, Brenna ducked under low hanging branches. She jumped over a fallen log and tried to keep her balance on the slick leaves that littered the ground.

"Sarah!" She shouted with all her might as she reached the river. "Sarah! Sarah!" Brenna skidded to a halt beside the river, gasping as she tried to catch her breath. Eyes scanned the area all around before staring at the river itself. The water had risen and swirled swiftly down. There was no sign of Sarah anywhere.

Brenna stepped as close as she dared to the edge of the river. Glancing nervously at the footbridge, she took a deep breath and walked to the bridge. Not setting a foot on it, she stared at a fallen object in the middle of the bridge. A ring of keys that had a tiny, silver Phantom of the Opera mask keychain.

"Oh, Sarah," Brenna sighed, taking a step back. Looking around, she thought. _They've taken her. Namin said they would. _A shiver ran through her from fear and the cold. _What'll he do with her? Why does he want her?_ A frown creased her features and she glared at the bridge. _I'm going after her._

Stepping onto the bridge until she was standing in the middle, Brenna bent over and snatched up the keys. She stuffed them in her jacket pocket and looked at over the bridge's railing. "Namin! I want to enter the Troll Bridge!"

She waited. The sound of rain beating against the ground and the water met her ears but nothing else. Brenna shook the water from her eyes and said, "Namin, it's Brenna! I want to enter the Troll Bridge!"

Again, there was no answer.

Growling in frustration, she stomped her foot. "I wish I could enter the Troll Bridge." Waiting for a breath of time, Brenna realized that she didn't hear the entrance of the bridge opening. Even Sarah's suggestion didn't work.

Brenna paused and shut her eyes to think. What to do? _How did the story go?_ She racked her brain for the long-ago forgotten fairytale.

"So first of all came the youngest Billy Goat Gruff to cross the bridge," she said to herself. "_Clip, clop, clip, clop_ went the bridge.

"'Who's that stomping over my bridge?' roared the troll.

"'Oh, it is only I, the tiniest Billy Goat Gruff , and I'm going up to the hillside to graze,' said the billy goat." Brenna's eyes flew open and she looked down at the bridge.

No one may have asked who was on the bridge, but Brenna was going to answer anyway. "I am Brenna Gregory," she shouted. "And I'm going to travel the Troll Bridge to -" she faltered. Just where _was_ Sarah on the Bridge? Sarah's brother had been taken to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City - so maybe Sarah was –

"I'm going to travel the Troll Bridge to the Troll King's castle!"

Stone grating against stone broke through the sound of pouring rain. Brenna turned and looked over the bridge's edge to see the water from the river diverge into a gaping hole, draining into the dark depth below. Two grimy, brown hands latched onto the greenery growing out of the muck around the hole. First a head appeared, then the whole body of the squat, dirty troll.

"Namin!" Brenna exclaimed as she ran off the bridge and stepped into the ankle deep remains of the river.

The troll looked up at her and scowled. "Took you long enough to learn the words. Did you get bigger?"

Brenna knelt in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Namin, where's Sarah?"

Namin's gaze slid away from hers. Sucking on his teeth he answered, "You already know where. I warned you, Brenna." Folding his arms over his chest he said, "You shouldn't have played that damned flute!"

Frowning in confusion, she argued, "But - you told me to play it. What does that have anything to do -"

"Since when do you do what I told you to?" The troll broke free of her hold and shook his head. "Come on. We're wasting time. You want to get to the castle without the king knowin' so come on."

"Wait," Brenna stopped him with a word and by placing a hand on his shoulder once more. Her green eyes searched his yellow eyes with concern. "Are you going to get in trouble if I have you show me the way?"

Namin shrugged his shoulders. "Didn't get in trouble before, did I? Now let's get movin'!"

Brenna smiled and caught the troll off guards with a hug. "Thank you, Namin. You're a good friend."

Unnoticed by the young woman, Namin's face melted into a sad, miserable expression. "Yeah -" Pushing himself out of her arms he said gruffly, "Lemme go!" Namin hastily jumped down the hole, followed closely by Brenna.

~*T*~*G*~

Standing in the doorway of an elegantly - yet feminine - furnished room, Yaron watched as a servant girl draped a light blanket over the sleeping woman that lay in the large canopy bed. The servant turned and nodded to the king and he returned the gesture in kind.

"Send wuid when she wakes up an' brin' 'er tae me," he ordered quietly. The girl nodded her quiet agreement. Yaron turned and walked out of the room.

"Th' troll's bride shaa rescue 'er sister-bride fair."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! Been slightly busy so I haven't responded as much as I like to. :) Well, now both girls are on the bridge. =D If you're curious about the prophecy, don't worry. It will be explained soon. ;)<strong>

**I know we're not supposed to respond to reviews in the actual story, but how else am I going to respond to those of you who don't have accounts or don't login? So! Quick comment: whowantstoknow - I'm so glad you're enjoying my story so far! And I'd be honored if you drew a picture for Troll Bridge. :) Feel free to do so and let me know where you post it!  
><strong>

**Rightio. Please review! =D  
><strong>


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Prophecy

Her head hurt. She didn't want to open her eyes because her head hurt so much. A moan escaped her as she scrunched her eyes tightly shut. Tylenol. She needed Tylenol or maybe Ibuprofen. She wondered if she had some in the drawer of her nightstand or if there would be a bottle in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.

Sarah rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. Why did her head hurt so much? She must have a headache or a cold from the rain the night before. She wondered if she would have to call Irene and apologize for getting sick during the dinner. Sarah couldn't even remember what they had for dinner or the conversation. Nothing. She remembered heading to the footbridge in the woods after her car broke down.

"Ugh!" Sarah ran a hand through her hair, still refusing to open her eyes. _Weird dream. Something about the bridge._

"Miss?" A voice called. Startled, Sarah's eyes shot open. She didn't recognize that voice.

"Ur ye waukin'?" Sarah sat up suddenly and winced when her head throbbed. Looking around in growing panic, she realized that she was not at home or anywhere familiar. From the light-color wooden walls, ceilings, and floors, the light blue fabrics on the beds and covering the window, floral vines painted on the walls, and the gold candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling Sarah felt her panic grow.

"Ah thooght Ah micht hae heard ye." The girl that had spoken stepped into the room and walked toward the window curtains. Drawing them back, she let light flood in through the large, square window. Sarah lifted a hand and winced again at the sudden pang in her head.

"Who - who are you?" Sarah watched the girl warily as she moved toward a painted door.

"Aam Eseld, Miss," the girl answered as she opened the door and stepped into the room. Eseld exited the second room with a shimmery, navy fabric hanging over her arms. "Haur, try thes oan. Need tae wear somethin' presentable fur breakfest, an' yoo're meetin' wi' His Highness later."

Sarah blinked in confusion. "What?"

Eseld, who had been laying out the dress in her arms out on a chair, looked up. "Sorry," she said, a look of concentration on her face. "Ah forgot tae speak clearly. Better?"

Sarah offered a hesitant smile. "Yeah. So, what did you say?"

"Oh," Eseld looked back at the dress she was brushing the wrinkles out of. "Ah said to try this oan. That way yoo have somethin presentable fur breakfast. Yoo need something tae wear when ye see His Highness." Turning back to Sarah, Eseld smiled. "Th' servants will brin' yer breakfast shortly. Shall Ah help ye get dressed?"

"Wait, wait." Sarah frowned. "Just - where exactly am I? I know - I think I'm in the Underground - but - am I -" She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. "Am I in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City?"

Eseld smiled in a way that told Sarah that the girl was trying very hard not to laugh. "He said ye might ask 'at. Nae." Eseld stepped toward the bed and clasped her hands in front of her red skirt. "Yoo're in th' Underground, but yoo're in th' Troll Castle."

Sarah nodded and looked up at Eseld. She inspected the girl before her. Brown hair pulled back from a lightly tanned face. Brown eyes that sparkled with the smile that spread across her face. She wore a black bodice over a white off-the-shoulder blouse and a wine-red skirt that allowed black boots to peek out under the hem.

"Sure, I'll need help." Resigned to the fact she was stuck in Brenna's kingdom, Sarah slid out of the bed. Looking down at her clothes, she was surprised to see that she was wearing a white nightdress. "What am I wearing?"

"A shift," Eseld answered. "Yer clothes waur drenched. Ah had tae change ye." A light blush rose up on Eseld's face. "Ah hope 'at was aw right."

Sarah shrugged. Living in a girl's dorm meant few problems with embarrassment. "It's fine. So - change out of this?"

The girl nodded and pointed toward a privacy screen that had a floral design that matched the paintings on the walls. Sarah stepped behind it and pulled the nightdress over her head. Eseld handed another shift to Sarah over the screen and waited. Sarah slipped the material over her head before stepping out again. Eseld smiled and picked up the dress. Sarah let the girl help her with the dress, glad she had someone else tightening and doing up the ties in the back.

"There. All dain." Eseld stepped back and turned Sarah around so she could size up the dress and the one wearing it. "Guid. I'll go get yer shoes." Eseld returned to the room that she had from which she had retrieved the dress. Sarah followed her through the open casement that had pillars stretching up to the curved arch to an adjoining sitting room.

A knock caused both women to look up.

Eseld turned to a double door with a painting of a waterfall on the wall above the door. "'at will be yer meal." Eseld explained. In a louder voice, she called, "Come in, Dagmar!" One door opened and in shuffled a troll with a large tray. Sarah watched the squat, brown-faced female creature as she made her way cautiously toward a long, square table with a cloth over it that matched the curtains.

"'ere's your breakfast, Goblin Princess," Dagmar announced as she slid the gold colored tray onto the table. With a sigh, the troll smiled at the fact she had not spilled a single drop. Turning, Dagmar dipped a clumsy curtsey in her smaller version of Eseld's dress. "Food is ready."

Sarah walked over to the table and looked at the tray. Plates of toast, potato hash, eggs, bacon, tomato slices, and sausages sat next to a bowl of porridge. A cup of milk was placed next to a small dish of jams and a pot of tea. She couldn't remember seeing so much food for one person's breakfast.

Looking up from the tray as something registered in her mind, Sarah asked, "Excuse me, did you say - Goblin Princess?"

"Yes. That's yer name." Dagmar nodded.

Eseld stepped out of the other room with shoes that matched Sarah's dress. A stern expression on her face showed she was not happy. "Dagmar. Back tae th' scullery, please."

Dagmar dipped her head in embarrassment and dipped into another curtsey. She shuffled out of the room again and shut the door.

Eseld forced a smile onto her face and offered the slipper-like shoes to Sarah. "Excuse, Dagmar. Trolls have a habit ay sayin' things they shooldnae."

"What did she say? That I was a Goblin Princess?" Sarah sat down at the table and put the shoes on her feet. "What did she mean?"

Eseld slid her gaze away and clasped her hands in front of her skirt again. "Aam nae sure how much Aam allowed tae say." Shifting uncomfortably, Eseld cleared her throat. "But - she called ye 'at coz - ye were th' only Runner tae make it tae th' Castle Beyond th' Goblin City."

Sarah reached for her cup of milk and took a sip. Lowering it again, she said, "So, because I made it through the Labyrinth, that makes me the - the Princess?"

"I've said enough," Eseld mumbled. Smiling brightly at Sarah, the girl said, "Enjoy yer meal! I'll be back when yoo're done." She motioned toward a gold colored rope with a tassel that hung beside the large bed. "Jist rin' th' bell there. Tug th' rope when yoo're done." Eseld nodded to Sarah before exiting the room the same way Dagmar had.

Left alone in the room, Sarah settled back to think. She was in the Troll Kingdom - on the Troll Bridge. Did Brenna know that she was missing? Would she try to come after her? Sarah picked at her food as she thought. She had no idea how Brenna could come looking for her. Paling, Sarah wondered if _he_ knew she was here.

Her stomach growled at her. Smiling wryly, Sarah realized that she hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday, and that had been a sandwich and a bag of chips. She ate all of her toast and eggs, but picked at the porridge, bacon, and sausage. Her hunger satisfied, Sarah stood and began wandering around her room. She wasn't ready to call Eseld back - not yet.

First, she walked to the door that Eseld had gone through to get the dress and shoes. Opening the door, Sarah poked her head in to discover a walk-in closet. Her mouth fell open at the sight of so many dresses in various colors. Stepping back, Sarah shut the door.

Next, she wandered the sitting room so she could look at the paintings on the walls. The trim along the ceiling and floor was painted or carved into floral designs. On the painted or carved vines sat birds - familiar or exotic. On the wall behind the chairs and table she had eaten her breakfast, was a floor to ceiling painting of a two waterfalls - one above the other - with a stone bridge stretching across the space between them. Turning, she walked to a wooden writing desk that had a stack of parchment, a small inkwell, and a cup filled with various feather quills. As Sarah moved away from the table, her attention was caught by the large window that stretched across the wall.

Sarah stepped up to the window and stared out in awe at the view.

A knock at the door of her room startled her out of her observation. Eseld poked her head into the room. "Ah wondered what was takin' ye sae long, sae I've come tae check oan ye."

"I'm sorry, how long -"

Eseld smiled kindly. "A while. Th' king is askin' fur ye. Ur ye ready tae meet him?"

Sarah felt unease build up in her at the thought. She was going to meet the Troll King. "Yeah, sure." Motioning to the tray and leftovers, she asked, "What about that?"

Eseld glanced at the tray. "Th' servants will get it while yoo're out." Beckoning for Sarah to come, she said, "Follow me."

Eseld walked in front of Sarah through the hallway. Looking around, Sarah noted the difference in architecture. From what she remembered of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, the interior had been stone. Everything everywhere was stone. However, the Troll Castle was wood - from the ceiling, to the wall, to the floor. Her curiosity was piqued every time they passed a room. Peering through open doorways, Sarah spotted maids and menservants that looked like Eseld or trolls.

Looking at the back of Eseld's head, Sarah quietly asked, "What - who are you?"

The girl glanced over her shoulder with a puzzled expression. "Ah tauld ye. Aam Eseld."

"That's not what I meant," Sarah clarified as she sidestepped a troll that scurried past her. "You're like - I mean - you're not a troll. So what are you? Are you human like me?"

Eseld laughed and shook her head. "Nae. Aam fae. Aam one of th' fair-folk." Looking over her shoulder again, Eseld asked, "Dae ye know what 'at means?"

"Uh - yeah!" Sarah stammered in shock, her eyes wide. "I'm into plays, operas, classics - stuff that talks about your people a lot. Yeah, I know what that means but," she slowed down as shock changed to confusion, "you don't _look_ like what I thought a fae looked like."

Eseld stopped in the middle of the stairway they were on and turned to look at Sarah questioningly. "What did ye expect us tae look like?"

"Well," Sarah drew out the word as she wondered if what she was about to say would be considered offensive. "Artistically, faes are depicted with pointed ears, pale skin, and long hair - wild looking or elegant."

Eseld smiled, holding back a laugh. "Well 'at is partially true of some of th' fair-folk. Pure fae - Seelie - they look like what yoo've described Pale, white skin, light hair an' eyes, pointed ears. Then there is High Fae. High Fae look like a Seelie, but they are th' rulers or nobility 'at are below th' Seelie. Ah am what is considered Low Fae. Low Fae are wilder lookin' tae various degrees an' have - somewhere in their ancestry - married an Unseelie. Unseelie are what trolls, goblins, shades, dragons, an' other - what's th' word ye mortals use? 'Mythical' creatures?"

"Okay. Wow." Sarah wrapped her arms around herself as she thought over all she'd just learned.

Eseld smiled sympathetically. This was a culture shock if anything. "We better keep gonnae." They started moving again, ascending the stairs. At the top, Eseld stepped toward a double door that had trees carved into the wood. Wrapping her hands around the pewter handles that had koi fish wrapping around them. Eseld opened the door and stepped back.

"Yer Majesty, Princess Sarah is here." She stepped aside so Sarah could enter.

Sarah slowly stepped through the door and looked around. She was stepping into a greenhouse or maybe it was a conservatory? The round, glass room was warm but not uncomfortably so. Lanterns hung from the ceiling but the light pouring in from the outside offered enough light. Everywhere were plants.

Sarah stopped in surprise and looked down at her feet. They were slightly damp. "What?"

"There is water fur mah water plants." A masculine voice gained her attention. Looking up, she saw a man - his back to her - who had curly, brown almost black hair. He wore a black shirt that had billowing sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Watch yer step," he warned, "sae ye dornt fall intae deeper water. There is a path if ye look close enough."

Returning her attention to her inch high water, Sarah saw a wooden path. Walking forward, she asked, "You're Yaron - the Troll King?"

He chuckled. "Ye said 'at tae mah cousin. Ur somethin' similar." Turning around to look at her, Sarah blinked in surprise at the red horned and beaked mask he wore. He smiled at her. "Aye. Ah take it Brenna's told ye of me."

Sarah nodded slowly. "She did. After you and your troll - or _his_ goblins freaked her out."

Yaron's smile disappeared. "Trolls. Nae goblins. Ah am afraid it was necessary."

"Necessary?" Sarah scoffed. "Necessary! She was having nightmares! She was paranoid. She literally had an emotional breakdown when I asked her to play that flute you gave to her!"

He looked away and fingered a bud on a tree. "It _was_ necessary, but Ah regret what she went through."

"Bull," Sarah mumbled. "If you regretted it, you wouldn't have done it. You wouldn't have brought me here. You would have left us both alone."

"Ah cooldnae." Yaron shook his head and sighed. "It was time tae brin' ye here."

"For what purpose? What do you need me for?" Sarah folded her arms over her. The bell-shaped sleeves draped down like a waterfall. Shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head she said, "I haven't wished anyone away. And what's with this 'Goblin Princess' thing?"

Yaron turned to face her again and tucked his hands behind his back. "Ah am sure Brenna told ye 'er story, correct?" At her nod, he began to pace in a small area. "Did she ever mention a prophecy?"

"Yes?" Sarah admitted warily.

"What dae ye know about it?" Yaron stopped pacing and faced her once more.

Shrugging again, she answered, "That it was the name of the gate she came through when she was a kid. That the faes were interested in this prophecy and that your future bride would come through that gate." Her eyes narrowed. "Wait - Brenna isn't a fae. You can't possibly think that she's -"

"Ah dornt think," he interrupted her. Yaron's mismatched eyes bored into Sarah's as he stated with conviction, "She _is_ mah future bride."

"Are you insane!" Sarah's voice rose. "How can you know that? You met her when she was - like - ten years old! How old were you when you met her? How old are you now?"

"Age means very little tae me now!" Yaron snapped. Sighing and beginning to pace once more, he continued, "She was ne'er meant tae come ontae th' bridge when she was 'at young. Groaning in frustration he muttered, "Maybe she was. Th' prophecy was ne'er specific."

Sarah lifted her hands in the air and let them fall against her side. "She's not a fae! The prophecy says -"

"It says nae such thing," he interrupted once more. "It says 'fair-folk lineage'. It's possible fur faes tae marry wi' other faes of varyin' cultures sae it is very possible somewhere in Brenna's ancestry there was a fae 'at married intae 'er family. Could be Seelie, High or Low Fae, or even Unseelie."

"I don't believe this." Sarah turned in a circle, trying to find something that might make sense in this crazy situation. Pausing, she frowned. "Wait, what does this have to do with me?"

Yaron watched her face closely, prepared to gauge her reaction. "Th' prophecy speaks ay ye too."

Sarah stared at him, digesting this information. "What does it say about me?"

"Perhaps Ah should start from th' beginnin' an' explain th' prophecy in its entirety." Yaron motioned to the door. "Come. We'll fin' someplace dry tae sit."

Sarah reached the door first, but it swung open without her touching it. Looking back at Yaron, he motioned for her to proceed. Sarah exited the room and waited for Yaron to follow. He took the lead and headed down the hallway to the right of the conservatory.

They entered a large room where the first thing Sarah noticed was floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. The further into the room she went, the more she saw. Chairs upholstered with yellow fabric accented the gold paint on the wood of the walls and ceilings as well as the yellow in the carpet's design. Tables of a dark mahogany held vases with flowers of every color. Candle sconces protruded from the walls but the white candles remained unlit because the tall windows let in so much light. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered three of the four walls. The books that resided on the shelves let off the smell of old parchment and leather.

Yaron motioned to a seat and settled in an armchair near the empty fireplace. When she had sat down, he began speaking. "Many years ago - centuries ago - th' Seelie court received a visitor. Th' Oracle - she can -"

"Divine the future. I know." Sarah interrupted his explanation. "I _have_ studied your culture. Even if the poets and playwrights got some stuff wrong I know about the Faes."

Yaron nodded, not the least bit offended by her interruption. "She cam tae th' court tae deliver a prophecy concernin' th' heir of th' Troll king - mah father - an' mah cousin."

"Your cousin is the -"

"Dornt say his name!" He held up a hand to stop her question. "Dornt e'en say his title! Words have power here. If ye say his name or his title, he'll know ye are here. He'll hear ye an' come lookin' fur ye. Ye must ne'er address him while ye are here. If ye must mention him, say 'yoor cousin' but ne'er say his name."

Sarah nodded slowly. "But you know who I'm talking about?"

"Yes," Yaron nodded as he smirked and said, "Goblin Princess."

With a huff, she let the title slide, although it bothered her - a little. "So what was the prophecy?"

"Two princesses fair of fair-folk lineage, Destined tae marry two proud princes, One of th' Goblins th' other of Troll.

"Th'betrothed of th' Troll shall enter th' Bridge, The betrothed of th' Goblin shall conquer his heart.

"Th' Troll's bride shall rescue 'er sister-bride fair. Th' Goblin's bride shall reunite 'er sister-bride true.

"Two princesses fair of fair-folk lineage, Fin' true love with Troll an' Goblin."

Sarah stared at Yaron after he finished his recitation. "What all does that mean?" she asked quietly. "I'm destined to marry - your cousin - and Brenna is destined to marry you because - what? Because Brenna tricked her way onto the Troll Bridge? And what about me? I ran through the Labyrinth to save Toby. I never 'conquered' his heart. I wasn't even trying to!"

"_Think_, Sarah." Yaron leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. "What did th' worm say? 'Once ye make it tae th' center yoo'll ne'er get out again.'" His eyes searched her face as he insisted, "He wasnae only 'speaking of th' castle. He was speaking of my cousin's _heart_. Ye made him fall in love wi' ye, an' he cannae an' willnae love anyone else!"

"I was sixteen!" Sarah stood abruptly from her seat and began pacing, gesturing wildly with her hands as she spoke. "I was scared and feeling guilty! I was worried about my brother! I was trying to act grown up and in control in a situation that was beyond my imagination!" Shaking her head she said, "I wasn't trying to get his attention. I wasn't trying to make him fall in love with me. I was confused. I - I -"

"Regardless," Yaron spoke when she stuttered herself into silence. "He loves ye - he loved ye. An' ye broke his heart by rejectin' his gift."

Sarah sighed and flopped back into her seat. She buried her face in her hands and felt that headache she had woken up with throbbing behind her eyes. She paused and looked up at the concerned man in front of her. "Wait - he 'loved' me. That's past tense - as in he used to but he doesn't anymore?"

Yaron looked down at his clasped hands. "Ye broke his heart. Ye rejected his gift."

"What gift?"

"It's a crystal. Naethin' more, naethin' less," he repeated words she had heard years ago and never expected to hear again. "A Fae man will offer a gift tae th' woman he intends tae marry." He explained, still not looking up from his hands. "If she accepts it, 'en they are engaged."

"So I rejected his offer of marriage," Sarah clarified slowly. "But he offered the crystal to me when he took Toby away. How did he know the moment he met me?"

"He'd bin watchin' ye fur a long time. Ah dunnae know how he discovered ye Aboveground, but he'd known ye fur a long time before ye officially met."

"Would he have given Toby back if I'd accepted?"

Yaron shrugged. "I dunnae."

Sarah sat quietly as she thought over all was said once more. Frowning, her head snapped up to glare at him. "You gave Brenna a 'gift'." He didn't answer. Eyes narrowing, Sarah continued, "Was it that kind of gift?" His silence was answer enough. Sarah reached out and slapped him. Her hand made contact with the mask and what little skin of his cheek was visible beneath it. The hit hurt her hand more than him, but it earned her a startled look from the king sitting before her.

"She was _ten_ and you _proposed_ to her?" Sarah hissed angrily as well as in pain as she cradled her fisted hand. "In the Aboveground, that would be considered pedophile!"

"Or an arranged marriage," Yaron defended. "Ah gave 'er mah gift coz Ah did nae know if I'd ever see 'er again. Th' prophecy foretold she would enter or reenter th' Bridge tae save ye but 'at obviously wisnae gonnae happen fur a long time since ye two hadnae e'en meet yet. Ah didne know what else tae do!"

"You are both _idiots_!" Sarah ranted. "No wonder the prophecy call you proud! No - wait - I take it back. I think it should have called you moronic idiots!"

Yaron gave a tentative half-smile and chuckle. "Probably wooldnae have sounded very poetic." He received an exasperated glare for his attempt at a joke. Wincing he bowed his head again. "Sorry."

"Back to the question about why you need me - and that does _not_ mean I believe this whole prophecy thing means me or Brenna!"

Yaron nodded and looked up once more. "After ye broke his heart -"

"Which I deny having any conscious knowledge or action of doing," she interjected.

"Mah cousin changed," Yaron continued as if he had not been interrupted. "He became sad - depressed. He wooldnae do anythin' relatin' tae takin' care of his kingdom. 'en he became angry - bitter. He chose tae act harshly toward his subjects."

Sarah paled. "That would explain why Hoggle was always so frightened when I asked him how - your cousin was treating everyone."

Yaron nodded and continued sadly, "His actions have gotten tae th' point 'at th' Seelie court is thinkin' of usurpin' him an' placin' someone else on th' throne. Th' only thin' refrainin' them from doin' so is th' Oracle."

"And the prophecy." Sarah sighed and slumped back into her chair. "But what could I do if - and that's a big _if_ - I were the one the prophecy speaks of? How could I make him fall in love with me again?"

"We get ye tae accept his gift," he explained simply.

"How? He probably wouldn't let me anywhere near him if he's as angry as you make him out to be," Sarah pointed out.

A smile spread across his face. "Trolls might not be known fur their wit, but luckily fur me, Ah take' after mah mother's side of th' family. We are gonnae trick him. If ye will help me, 'at is."

"How does Brenna factor into all of this? She has to rescue me - if we're the ones the prophecy talks about. She doesn't even know how to get on the Bridge," Sarah queried.

"If she hasnae figured it out, I'll send th' information tae 'er."

Sarah looked away and pursed her lips. Yaron remained silent while she thought. When she turned back to look at him she said, "I need more proof than Brenna and my stumbling into the lives of two princes or kings."

"Ah could send fur th' Oracle," Yaron suggested. "Would 'er word over mine help settle this?"

Sitting up again, Sarah nodded. "I guess. Can't really argue with an all knowing person." Her comment earned a chuckle from the man. "But," she continued, "you won't send for Brenna until I know for sure. And somehow send word to her that I'm okay."

"Ah willnae send fur 'er," he agreed, his shoulders sagging in disappointment. "But there is nae need tae send word tae 'er at all. Time is very different in th' Underground. She might nae e'en know yoo're missin' yet."

Sarah shook her head. "Believe me, if she's who you think she is. She knows and is trying everything she can think of to come get me."

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

Miss? ur ye waukin'? Ah thooght Ah micht hae heard ye. - Miss? Are you waking up? I thought I might have heard you.

Haur, try thes oan. need tae wear somethin' presentable fur breakfest, an' yoo're meetin' wi' his highness later. - Here, try this on. You need to wear something presentable for breakfast, and you're meeting with His Highness later.

**Author's Note:**

I know it was requested that I give a translation of what Yaron said, but to be honest, that would take up more room than I thought necessary. I'll translate every once in a while here at the bottom, but I'll try to type the conversations in a readable fashion. If I get too many complaints, I'll just nix the accent and type his dialogue normally.

On another note, I am sorry for the long delay folks! D= I've been lazy yet busy at the same time. Lazy with my fanfictions, but busy with my job, online course, and newest 'book'. Believe it or not, I'll be writing more during the school year. Haha. When I have no time at all, I write my best. ;) Those of you following _Lost and the Lonely_ or my _Pr_é_tear_ fic, have no fear, I'm still working on them. Slowly, but I am working on them. =) Thank you all for your patience!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Oracle

Brenna's sneakers were soaked. Her socks were soggy. Her nose felt like it was congested. "I hate this," she mumbled to herself as she followed along behind Namin.

The troll turned his head from the path before them. "What's wrong?"

"I'm wet," she answered with a wry smile. He shrugged and focused forward once more. Brenna reached out a hand to run it along the twisting wall of the Bridge. She lifted her eyes from the back of Namin's head to peer into the dark depths ahead of them.

"How far is it to the castle?" She asked. Namin had warned her at the very start of their journey to never say Yaron's name while they traveled so he wouldn't know she was there or on her way to rescue Sarah. He had been very forthcoming with information, confirming her fears that Sarah had been taken by the trolls. The only thing he wouldn't tell her - or couldn't tell her - was why.

He shrugged. "Don't know how to explain it to you in terms ya'd understand." Namin sidestepped some unseen obstacle. Brenna copied his movement. "If you were a fae, ya'd understand what I meant if I said _Little níos faide ná an ghealach_."

"What does that mean?"

Namin shrugged. "Dunno."

Brenna sighed and fell silent. Her mind churned over her fears. What did Yaron want with Sarah? Would he hold her captive like Jareth had held Sarah's brother? Or worse still, turn her into a troll? What could he possibly gain by taking Sarah?

_Me_. She thought, and her heart seemed to stop. _He wants me_. The only question that resonated after that frightening thought was why?

"Why does he want me?" Brenna whispered, more to herself than to Namin.

The troll stopped where he was and turned to look at her with a worried expression. "Why do ya think he wants you?"

"Why else would he take Sarah?" Brenna demanded in frustration. "Why after all these years, would he suddenly try to contact me? _Why_? This can't just be coincidence!"

"I dunno," Namin grumbled as he turned back around and continued walking.

Brenna followed, but continued to think the matter over. This couldn't be just coincidence.

~*T*~*G*~

Sarah stared out of her bedroom window. The view was splendid, but it was nothing compared to the Labyrinth. She missed the sprawling paths and her friends. Her friends more than anything else. It had been years since she heard from Hoggle, Ludo, or Didymus.

A knock on the door behind her alerted her to company. Turning away from the glass, Sarah called, "Come in."

Eseld opened the door and stepped into the room. She dipped into a curtsey as she spoke. "Th' Oracle is here, Miss." The servant inspected Sarah's attire, which had changed earlier due to the Fae woman's insistence. Eseld had been horrified at the idea of the Goblin Princess wearing wet clothes.

Sarah looked down at herself to make sure nothing was out of place. She now wore a gold and black dress that made her think of a Renaissance Fair. Instead of slippers, she now had leather boots much like Eseld's. At least her feet wouldn't get soaked again should this castle have more floors covered with an inch of water.

A smile of satisfaction spread across Eseld's face. "Right thes way, Miss."

As before, Sarah followed Eseld through the winding halls of the castle. Instead of going up as they had to meet with Yaron, they went down a flight of stairs. Sarah did not try to pay attention to where they went because of all the twists and turns they took. Eseld stopped in front of a tall, glass door and motioned for Sarah to step forward. The young woman did so and tried peering through the imperfect glass. The distorted image revealed nothing to her and left her curious.

"Go oan in," Eseld urged in a hushed voice. Sarah looked over at the Low Fae questioningly. Eseld nodded toward the door. "Cross th' room an' go up th' stairs. She's waitin' at th' top."

"Will Yaron be there?"

"Nae reason fur him tae be." Eseld shrugged. "Thes is a meetin' atween ye an' th' Oracle."

Sarah took a deep breath and nodded. "Right. That's how it's done. I knew that." She grasped one of the brass door knobs in her hand and turned it. The door swung open with ease into the room.

Sarah took a moment to orient herself and looked around. Like the conservatory, the floor was covered in water. Across the room were wooden steps, as Eseld said there would be. Beside the steps stood two pale, marble statues of women. Their hands were pressed together as if in prayer and their eyes - although blank - gave the appearance that they were looking upwards.

When Sarah stepped into the room, her feet found solid ground. The door shut behind her and closed with an audible 'click' that echoed in the silent, still room. The ripples in the water made by Sarah's footsteps spread to the walls and bounced off of them. Sarah cautiously approached the stairs. Warily, she glanced from one statue to the other. Nothing was ever as it seemed in the Labyrinth. Why should the Troll King's realm be any different?

As her booted foot rested on the first step between the statues, she heard a grating sound of stone against stone. Looking up from the step, Sarah stared into the turned down face of one of the statues.

"Peace disturbed, the water ripples," said the one staring unseeingly at Sarah.

A voice matching the first statue spoke from her other side, "Questions, many. Fear that cripples."

Sarah looked between the statues that were now silent and staring. "I've - I've come to see the Oracle."

"Answers sought, but are you ready?" Questioned the first statue.

"Seek your heart child, keep it steady," ordered the second.

Sarah bit her lip in thought. Was she prepared to hear what the Oracle had to say? What if she and Brenna were the girls in the prophecy? What then? Swallowing around a lump in her throat, she nodded.

The statues seemed to smile and turned their gazes forward once more. In unison they spoke, "We say you may go on past us. Listen well, child. Hear the truth thus given by the wise one Delphi."

At the end of their speech, all fell silent again save for the ripples lapping against the walls. Sarah looked from one statue to the other. When neither moved, she took a deep breath and ascended the wooden steps.

They went straight up. The walls on either side of her changed from wood, to stone. Moss and other green plants grew out of the cracks. The sound of running water met her ears as did the sound of birds quietly calling to one another.

Sarah reached the top step and looked around. Trees and other plants grew around stones. A mist surrounded the area, giving it an eerie other-worldliness. Sarah walked along the dirt path that she could see, her head turning every direction to catch a glimpse of something - anything.

"Sarah Lynn Williams."

She jumped at the gentle, airy voice that spoke her name. Looking up with wide, hazel eyes, Sarah spotted a woman standing in a round, stone gazebo. The woman's full, pink lips smiled but her blue-gray eyes seemed glazed over - as if she was not really seeing the mortal woman standing before her.

"You have questions, child. Come," the woman turned her back on Sarah and walked to the center of the gazebo.

Sarah looked around in confusion before her attention lighted on three stone steps off to the side that led up to the gazebo. She hastened to them, but her caution overtook her. Slowly, she ascended the stairs, keeping an eye on the woman's profile.

Pale, blonde hair wafted on the cool, wet breeze that swirled around them. Skin that had not seen the sun found the thin, blue dress she wore to be a great complement to her complexion as well as to her eyes. The only feature of the woman's face that seemed at all out of place was her thick eyebrows. They were not delicate and did not fit well with the delicate woman.

"Your answers," the woman said, "do not pertain to my appearance or anything about my person, Goblin Princess." She looked up from the stone pillar she stood next to and the shallow brass basin that stood on it. "You have come about the prophecy."

"Are you the Oracle?"

The woman's lips spread into a large smile, but did not part into a grin. "I am Delphi. One of many that the Aboveground and Underground has known. You have heard my name," she noted as Sarah looked away in shock. "You have studied well. Good," Delphi pronounced as she rested a thin hand on the handle of a pitcher. "Your knowledge has prepared you for what awaits you."

"And what would that be?" Sarah demanded as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Marriage to Ja-"

"Not yet!" Delphi interrupted, looking up sharply at the young woman. She shook her head. "Do not pronounce his name. You have been warned. Do not act foolishly, Goblin Princess." Tilting her head, the Oracle said, "You act a great deal like him. Impulsive. Reckless, even. Yes. A good match."

"How is that a good match?" Sarah rolled her eyes and huffed.

"Because of what you are that he is not," Delphi stated as she lifted the pitcher. Holding it over the basin, she began to pour. A steady flow of water flowed from the pitcher's lip to the empty basin. Delphi did not take her eyes off of the basin as she spoke. "You have learned the importance of caring for others. You learned it through the Labyrinth and his game. He has yet to learn that. You will teach him. He has become centered on himself. You brought him to his knees, but you left him without a way to raise himself back up again. He needs you. Your compassion," she listed off the words as she set the pitcher down, "your love, your guidance, your knowledge, your all."

"But I _don't_ love him!"

Delphi's eyes rose from the basin and seemed a bit clearer as a sly, knowing smile quirked one edge of her lips higher than the other. "Oh?" Her eyes took on a mismatched hue, her expression turned impassive and cold. In a voice, not her own, she said, "It's a crystal. Nothing more. But if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams."

Sarah shuddered and began rubbing her arms for warmth. She looked away. "Don't - don't do that."

Delphi closed her eyes and swallowed. When she opened her eyes again, the blue-gray glazed look had returned. "What is it you dreamed of, Goblin Princess? Once it was to be a famous actress. As famous as your mother." Delphi shook her head. "After you brought the Goblin King to his knees, after the hallucination, what did you dream?" Motioning with a hand toward the basin, she said, "I have seen what you dream. Would you care to see?"

Sarah looked warily at the basin and shook her head.

"No?" Delphi asked. "Then you do not deny it? I suppose your Shakespeare's words were true. The lady doth protest too much.

"You have avoided every thought - every word - of him. Yet your dreams betray you," the Oracle declared. "He is the Prince of Dreams, Goblins Princess. You are just lucky that he has not looked into your dreams since you broke his heart. Had he done so - I am not sure what would have been the outcome.

"Now that we have established the truth of your feelings," Delphi continued, "we must establish the truth of the prophecy and your part within it. Come. Look into the basin."

Sarah stepped forward until she was standing across from Delphi at the pedestal. Delphi inclined her head to the basin and stared into it. Sarah slowly followed her example and looked into the water filled bowl.

"What was," Delphi muttered as she touched her index finger to the water. The ripples flowed out from the spot. Sarah watched in astonishment as images of herself, Toby, and Jareth appeared. The rapid replay ended with Jareth's flight toward the moon. She never knew he had been there that night.

"What is," Delphi muttered as she touched her middle finger to the water. Again, images fast forwarded in the water. Sarah in school morphed into Jareth sulking in the Escher Room while the Labyrinth fell into disrepair around him. He looked like he had not slept in ages. His face was hard. Goblins that dared approach him were frightened into leaving fairly quickly, and Jareth would be left alone once more.

"What could be," Delphi whispered as she touched her ring finger to the water's surface. However, instead of images playing out, the water stilled and turned dark.

Sarah looked up in anticipation. "What?"

Delphi tilted her head and looked through her long lashes at the girl. "I cannot say. Prophecies - although set in stone - must be acted upon without foreknowledge of the outcome. Choices that must be made could be altered and harmful consequences may befall all involved."

"But this doesn't answer that Brenna and I are the ones in the prophecy!"

"Brenna's fate is sealed." Delphi's eyebrows dipped into a 'V'. "You are the variable that stands in the balance of ruining all. As for proof," she waved a hand over the water and said, "here, Goblin Princess."

Images of Jareth and Sarah after she had eaten the peach. The all too familiar and painful song he had sung there that confused her. The look of wonder on her face and the look of - dare she think it? Love? On his.

The images changed to her search for Toby in the Escher Room. Once more, Jareth was singing. He had said he believed in her. She never understood what he meant then. She still did not.

Jareth and Sarah stood in the Escher Room. They stared one another down. The words floated, watery, about Sarah and Delphi. "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, for my will is as strong as yours. And my -"

"Stop! Wait!" Jareth held out a gloved hand. Desperation written in his eyes. "Look, Sarah," he said as he held out the crystal. "Look what I'm offering you - your dreams."

Yet the image Sarah watched from that time showed her younger self ignoring his pleas. "And my kingdom is great."

His desperation leaked from his eyes to his voice. "I ask for so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want."

"Kingdom is great - damn! I can never remember that line."

Hope - even if it was just a shred - entered his eyes. "Just fear me, _love_ me, do as I say, and I will be your slave."

But Sarah would have none of it. She chanted, "My kingdom is great. My kingdom is great." In a moment of clarity, she looked up into Jareth's eyes. "You have no power over me."

The words echoed around Sarah as she looked away from the basin and bit her lip. She remembered with clarity that moment. She didn't need Delphi to show her. The look on Jareth's face. The crystal popping like a soap bubble as it touched her fingers. No. She did not need to see it all again.

"The Goblin King was proud," Delphi stated, earning Sarah's attention once more. "He still is. A proud, bitter, Fae. Yet, he still holds love in his heart for you."

"Yaron said he did not."

"You entered his heart, Goblin Princess." The Oracle turned away from the basin and went to sit on a cushioned, stone bench. "You could never make it out again, if you tried. Believe me when I say, he has tried to expel you from your throne on his heart. Tried, and failed. You conquered the Labyrinth that is his heart. Literally and metaphorically."

Sarah shook her head. "How does this prove anything?"

"You conquered him!" Delphi insisted. "He had no power over you. You broke every enchantment. Broke every barrier. You. Broke. _Him_. All that is left is putting him back together again and making him a better man."

Sarah lifted her hands in the air in exasperation. "I was quoting a book!"

"You were living out a past life," Delphi corrected. "But that is neither here nor there. We are in the present. Let us deal with it."

"Not after admitting something like that!" Sarah nearly shouted. "What do you mean 'past life'?"

Delphi huffed. "Nothing happens through coincidence. All is planned. Down to every breathe drawn into these weak frames. All that I _will_ say on the matter, you were denied your chance with love once. You are reaching for it once more. You and Brenna both are. Your soul sought a vessel. That is all."

"What about that 'fair-folk lineage' bit?"

"Never take anything for granted," Delphi replied. "Your soul is of the fair-folk. As is Brenna's. There is no fair-folk blood in your mortal parent's history. The Fae have long died out in the Aboveground. Souls may remain, but the actual blood is gone."

Sarah turned her back on the Oracle in order to think the matter through. Her hands ran up and down the bare sections of her arm in order to instill heat there. Did she doubt what she had been told? Oddly enough - no. The prophecy had said she would conquer the heart of the Goblin King. She had conquered the Labyrinth - Jareth controlled the Labyrinth - it could very well be a part of him. Fair-folk - soul? She had never felt like she belonged with her family and friends. Not really. Toby had accepted her. Did that mean –?

"What about Toby?" Sarah turned to look at Delphi.

"What about him?"

"Is he a - is his soul a -"

"No." Delphi shook her head. "He is something else entirely. His fate is none of your concern and that is all I will say. Remember, we are dealing with the now and you. Your decision, Goblin Princess?"

Sarah looked away angrily. "Don't you already _know_?"

A sound that resembled a chuckle passed Delphi's lips. "Yes, I suppose I do. However, you must speak. Words have meaning and power here. Or have you forgotten that as well?"

Sarah looked up once more, determination written on her face. "What must I do?"

~*T*~*G*~

Yaron stood by a large open window, staring out of it. In his hand he held a reed flute, similar in craftsmanship to the one he gave to Brenna. He brought it to his lips and prepared to play, but he sighed instead and lowered it again.

"Unable to play, Troll King?"

He turned to look at Delphi and shook his head.

"You will when she plays again," Delphi declared.

"Ah ken," Yaron grumbled as he looked away again. He pocketed the instrument in his jacket pocket before turning fully to face the Oracle. "Whit has she decided?"

"She is in accord with the plan. Uncertain, but determined to see it through." Delphi tilted her head. "Now all we need is your bride."

"I'll gang gie her."

"No need." Delphi nodded out the window. "She is already on the bridge and on her way here."

"Whit?!" Yaron's eyes widened and he gripped onto the window's frame until his knuckles were white.

"Sarah was correct when she said Brenna would do all in her power to get here." Delphi turned and walked toward the door of the room. "You underestimated her, Yaron. Try not to do that again - if you can."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Um . . . hi, all! Sooooooo, I know I said I'd have time during the school year to write. Well, that plan got blown out of the water. Sorry. Here's a chapter update to make up for it! Hope you all like Delphi. She's - interesting - to say the least. Next chapter will be more Brenna-centered. (For those of you who like her and want to read more about her.)

I had some difficulty writing Sarah this time. =/ Hope I did ok. I generally avoid writing Sarah fics cause I don't want to mess up. Let me know if I did ok . . .

Oh! All the new questions that come up because of Delphi. XD I love leaving mysteries in my fics. Lol.

Review please! =D


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: A Bit of Hope

Namin glanced over his shoulder to make sure Brenna was still following. Sure enough, she was. He returned his attention to the path ahead of him and sighed wearily. Why did this have to happen? To his friend, of all people. Shaking his head, Namin blamed himself - not for the first time either. If he had not let her through the gate, she would never been found by Yaron. If he had protected her from the Billy Goats. If he had kept her from being swept away by the water.

If, if, if, if . . .

So many 'if's in his life now, Namin didn't know what to think or do anymore.

"_Namin,"_ Yaron's voice echoed within the troll's thoughts. Namin jumped in shock and looked around the dark tunnel for any sign of his king._ "Ah main spick wi' ye."_

Namin chanced another look over his shoulder at Brenna as she picked her way over a twig jutting out of the murky water. Yaron insisted,_ "Aloyn."_

Gulping back his nerves, Namin stopped and turned to face Brenna. "Take a breather, Brenna. I'm gonna look - ahead a ways. Make sure it's safe - an' stuff."

Brenna looked up and smiled. "Okay. Make it quick though."

The troll bobbed his head in agreement and shuffled away. He turned a corner and looked back to make sure she wasn't following - oblivious to the dark figure that materialized from the shadows until he had scrambled face first into the figure's legs.

Namin fell backwards, his arms pinwheeling to keep his balance. He looked up in surprise at his king. "Yer Majesty!"

"Hoo did she gie th' words tae come ontae th' brig, Namin?" The man demanded in a low, threatening voice. "Did ye gie them tae 'er?"

Namin shook his head so fast, his spiky hair flew into his face. "She remembered all on 'er own, Sire! I had nothin' ta do wid it!"

Yaron lifted a fisted hand to his mouth and paced a short ways away from the troll before coming back. "It's tay suin," he ranted to himself as he paced away from Namin again. "She needs tae bide until th' plan is in motion. She shoods nae be oan th' brig until Sarah is in th' Goblin City!"

"The plan?"

"Th' plan tae rescue th' Goblin Princess frae th' Goblin Kin'," Yaron muttered.

Namin snorted. "Beg yer pardon, Sire, but Brenna 'ere thinks she's rescuin' -"

"Whieest!" The man waved a hand to silence the troll. "Aam thinkin'." He snapped a finger and pointed to Namin. "Delay 'er!"

"What?"

Yaron approached the troll and set a hand on the creature's head and tilted Namin's head back until the troll was looking up at the king. "Delay 'er joorney," he stated solemnly. "Dinnae tak' 'er tae onie destination until Ah return tae lit ye ken 'at th' plan is in motion. Tak' 'er oan a wild chase oan th' brig."

Namin's eyes widened in alarm. "But -!"

"Dae it!" Yaron snapped. "That's an order!" He released Namin's hair with a rough jerk.

"Namin?" Brenna's voice approaching them alerted the pair.

Yaron stepped back into the shadows and said, "Dinnae lit 'er ken we hae mah return an' dae as Ah say." With the end of his order, Yaron disappeared from sight.

"Namin!" The troll turned abruptly to see Brenna walking toward him. "Are you okay?" She asked as she crouched down to be eye-level with the troll. Concern crossed her face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Namin shook his head and turned away from her. "No! Nothin'. It's nothin'. Come on! We need ta go this way." He pointed down the path.

Brenna turned to look and frowned. What she could discern in the wooden tunnel was the water flow. They had been following the path leading upstream, now Namin was directing them downstream - following the water.

"Is the Troll Castle down there?" she asked as she stood upright.

Namin didn't answer her question, just waved a hand toward their new path. As they continued on, Brenna could not help but feel that it was the wrong way. Why she thought that, she couldn't be sure.

~*T*~*G*~

The sun bore down on the scorched earth with unrelenting force. Clouds in the distance, rumbled but without the promise of rain. Heat lightning flashed and sliced through the dry, hot air. A breeze - like the breath of a dragon - rippled dirt and caused what brown foliage there was to crumble into more dust.

A dwarf, his hair whispy and white with age, hobbled up to a city gate that was wide open and hung on its hinges. The goblin guard that stood beside it had crumpled beneath the limited shade the gate afforded, and made no move to heed the bold dwarf as he walked through the gates.

The dwarf continued on into a city of crooked houses. Windows and doors were open wide. Occupants could be seen lounging sluggishly inside, fanning themselves with whatever piece of cloth or paper they could find. Attempts to find relief in such means were in vain.

He came to a large clear area that was known as the market - but stalls were bare and empty. No one was shopping. A fountain with stone dwarves stood in the center of the deserted market. Water that used to come out of the spouts had ceased and the water in the fountain had dried up.

Onward he went to the very doors of the castle that was beyond the city. No one stood guard at the heavy metal doors. The milk carton beside the door was full, but the milk bottles looked as if their contents had curdled from the heat. Neglected and unused.

The stone halls were empty and silence as heavy as the heat prevailed. The plodding of the dwarf's feet broke the stillness and left footprints in the dust and dirt that had accumulated from neglect. He ascended a flight of stairs - with some difficulty due to his age and his stiffened joints - and soon found himself in a room he knew well, the Goblin King's throne room.

From the doorway, he looked around at the empty hall. He could remember when goblins, in their raucous merriment would crowd into the throne room. Shouts, laughter, drinks, chases, and harmless fun used to be had here. Now it was empty. Now the city was silent. Now the Labyrinth was still and motionless. It rarely changed. If the almost sentient maze did alter its appearance, the result was disastrous and dangerous.

"What do you want, Hogsmeade?"

The dwarf's head snapped up from his gaze out a window. His wide brown eyes landed on a darkly clad figure sprawled unceremoniously on the throne. Blonde hair - that the dwarf recalled had once shot out in an unruly and wild fashion - hung limply about his face. The man looked as if he had not bathed or groomed himself in ages. His garments - that the dwarf remembered were once white and had plumes of owls adorning it - were stained a disgusting shade of grayish brown. Feathers were missing from his cape so that he looked like a bird that had been attacked by a large feline.

The man, whom the dwarf once feared, sat dejectedly on his throne. His face was hidden in his gloved hand as if he was staving off bright light from sensitive eyes.

"My name's Hoggle," the dwarf grunted without fear but with a twinge of disgust and irritation.

"Watch your tone, Hogbreathe, or else I'll send you to -"

"The Bog of Eternal Stench," Hoggle completed for the man. "Yeah, yeah. Like I haven't heard that before." He marched across the room to the stairs that led up to the dias the throne stood on and crossed his arms over his chest. "Too bad you've made me the Prince of the Land of Stench. Can't banish me to my own 'kingdom' now can ya?"

The man did not respond.

Hoggle turned to look out the window again. "Been gettin' some news."

"I don't care."

"Somethin' about the Oracle movin' around. Trolls too, I think," the dwarf continued as if the man had not spoken.

"I have no business with my cousin's citizens," the man muttered, "and what do I care what that witch does? Delphi has brought me nothing but misery."

Hoggle looked up at the man and snorted. "Did that on yer own."

"Quiet!" he shouted as his hand, once covering his face, pounded the armrest of the throne. Red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes glared angrily at the dwarf that had cringed back from the outburst.

"Only tellin' the truth, Jareth," Hoggle muttered.

Jareth, ignoring the dwarf, stood from his throne and stormed over to the window. He leaned heavily against the stones as if the brief excursion had exhausted what energy and strength he had. After a moment of silent brooding, the Goblin King questioned, "Where is she?"

"Right here, oh Goblin King."

Hoggle turned around in shock to see the pale woman. Her attention was focused on Jareth, but she smiled and said, "Greetings, Prince of the Bog. How fares your realm?"

Jareth made a very undignified snort but refused to turn to see his visitor. Hoggle shot the monarch a glare before bowing to the Oracle. "As well as can be expected, m'lady. The waters are receding - which is kinda helpin' the smell to go away. The heats makin' it worse though."

"I am sure you have business to attend to there, Prince Hoggle," Delphi hinted, "Perhaps your visit with the Goblin King could be rescheduled for another day?"

Hoggle shrugged and grunted, "Sure. Uh - good day, m'lady."

A bob of her head dismissed him. Delphi and Jareth remained standing where they were while Hoggle retreated. Once he was gone, the unearthly woman glided to the small pit in the center of the room. It was filled with blankets and pillows. All of them looked fresh and clean as if they were ready to accept an occupant. Delphi sat down in the center, her wispy dress pooling around her.

She stared at the throne and blinked. "You are tense," she stated.

Jareth did not turn nor did he speak.

"You fear I have some chastisement for what you called me," she stated in amusement, "and your accusation against me. Have no fear. I am neither offended nor upset. I have merely come to ascertain your well being."

He huffed a sarcastic laugh. "My _well being_ is as you see and no doubt have heard from the Seelie Court."

Delphi's airy laugh echoed off the walls in an unusual way before she spoke. "I do not trust what the eyes see, Goblin King. I see the world and all its people with different means." Tilting her head to the side she added, "I do not think all hope is lost with you."

"Hope left a long time ago," Jareth grumbled.

"No," Delphi countered. "I know when hope is gone. I have seen it in the destiny of many people. Hope has not left you."

Turning his head so he could glare over his shoulder at her, Jareth ground out, "I have _no hope_."

She looked around the throne room with a faraway look. "Where are the wished away children, Jareth?"

His gaze averted once more before he answered. "There haven't been any since -" His words ended abruptly, and his already stiff posture seemed to tense even further.

"Then why are you still waiting here? Still keeping this makeshift play area clean?"  
>Jareth did not answer.<p>

Delphi smiled serenely and shook her head. "Very much alike the two of you."

"Who are you talking about?" Jareth grumbled reluctantly.

"You," the Oracle answered slyly, "and her."

"Which _her_?"

Smoothing out her skirts with a delicate touch, Delphi lowered her head coyly and said, "I believe you have forbidden her name to be spoken in all your lands. The Princess, of course. The Winner of the Labyrinth."

Jareth spun on his feet and stormed up to the woman. Towering over her with fists clenched, he shook with fury. "Do. Not. Speak. Of. _Her_!" he spat.

Delphi looked up at him calmly, an eyebrow quirked up in amusement. "You surely are a stubborn, proud fae, Jareth." Rising from her seat she made a sweeping gesture to the room. "I do see hope for you and in you." She held her hand up to stem his words as he opened his mouth. "You may not see it in yourself at the moment, and you may not see it coming, but it is there. I have spoken." With a nod of her head to him, she stepped out of the small pit and made her way to the door of the throne room.

In a flash of light, she was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>

Whieest - Quiet

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the wait. :) School is back in session, and we're off and running! That, and I've been spending lots of time with my boyfriend (he's such a sweetie). So! Hope this short chapter tides you over for a while. You may thank rhetorically yours for this glimpsed at what's going on with Jareth. :) Hadn't planned on it, but when this fab reviewer suggested it, I greatly liked the idea!

Hope to get a new chapter up soon. In the meantime; read, review, and enjoy! =D


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Unlucky

Brenna ducked a low hanging branch - or maybe it was a root. She couldn't be sure anymore. The twisting and twining sticks that made up the bridge wrapped together so much there was no telling what was what.

Her gaze drifted from watching her steps in the dark water to watching Namin as he led the way. She didn't know what time it was or how long they had been walking. She wish she knew how far or close they were to their destination. Again, Namin was no help with answers.

Dread and confusion built up inside her the further along they went downstream. Brenna couldn't help but feel like they were going the wrong way.

"Look out for the waterfalls up ahead," Namin called to her as he sidestepped water falling from above them.

Brenna copied his actions and paused long enough to look up. Water fell from a whole in the ceiling of the tunnel. She frowned in confusion as she remembered a similar structure.

"Is that the tunnel I climbed up the last time I was here?" Brenna asked as she looked over at Namin's back.

The troll stopped and turned to look at her. "No - that's in another part of the tunnel."

"Does it lead to the same place?"

Namin shrugged and turned to keep walking. "Keep movin'."

Slowly and reluctantly, she did as she was told. For a brief moment, she looked back over her shoulder at the waterfall.

"Ah!"

Namin whirled around in alarm at her cry but laughed at what he saw. "Told ya to look out."

Brenna stepped forward, holding her arms out from her sides and dripping wet. She glared at the troll and shook some of the water off of her. "Verbal warning every time there's one nearby would be nice," she stated irritably.

"Nah," Namin disagreed. "Better to learn now to be aware and lookin' for trouble. Come on! We keep walkin' better chances of you dryin' off."

She scowled at him and began walking again. Soaked, cold, and miserable, Brenna reminded herself she was out to save Sarah. Namin was right. She needed to be prepared for any kind of trouble, especially if they ran into Billy Goats.

"Uh - Namin?" Brenna tried wringing out excess water from her shirt as she walked. The troll grunted in acknowledgement, but didn't turn to look at her. The young woman questioned, "Are there still Billy Goats on the Bridge?"

~*T*~*G*~

Delphi hummed to herself as she passed over an old bridge. Fog swirled around the trees and over the water which seemed to have stilled in its river. Draped in a plain colored cloak, she could have easily blended into the fog had it not been for the bits of sky blue fabric peeking out from the gaps in the cloak's front.

A smile curled up her lips when she saw a boy sitting patiently on the dew covered grass a short distance away. She stopped at the edge of the bridge that touched the ground and stood looking at the boy.

He seemed to not notice or care that his jeans were grass and dew stained. He seemed content and comfortable where he sat. Almost as if he belonged in nature.

The wind ruffled the boyish mop of hair and the fur lining on his vest collar. The boy's head turned to look at her, a smile also spreading across his face.

"Hi, Delphi!"

"Toby," she greeted before setting foot to the grass. "I see you are early."

The six year old boy leaned back and shrugged. "Mom and Dad are still sleeping and I wanted to go for a walk."

"You also have questions."

"Where's Sarah?" His blue eyes stared up at her, his face and voice oddly commanding for a child.

"With the Troll King."

"_Troll_? Since when did Jareth -"

"Toby!" Delphi scolded, her eyes gaining clarity.

Toby rolled his eyes and stood up from the grass. "Like Sarah said - no power over me. She won me back, he lost me. The end. 'Sides, he's not been in a condition to come after me anyway." Folding arms over his chest he asked, "So why is Sarah with a troll and not Jareth? You said the prophecy -"

"I explained the prophecy to you," Delphi interrupted again, "because you are Sarah's protector. She rescued you, and you owe her a life debt. You must know why you cannot go after her now. Why this prophecy does not require you."

A pout jutted the boy's lower lip out. "Still think it's dumb."

"I understand your frustration, young fyglia," Delphi assured. "Your time will come."

"She's been unlucky before." Toby walked a pace away. "That's why I was sent. What if they're both unlucky again?"

Delphi settled down on the grass and stared off into the swirling fog. "She went farther this time than before. Brenna - she is a little worse for wear this time around. Her fae soul was too gentle and has been mistreated with her mortal family."

"Will she fail?"

The oracle looked at the boy her gaze focusing on him. "I cannot say."

His head lifted and tilted to the side. "The bell's about to chime in the clock tower. I better get home."

"And I must return to the Underground," Delphi stated as she rose from the ground. "By the way, how have your lessons been going?"

Toby gave her a cheeky grin as the fur on his vest ruffled from the wind. Before her very eyes, the boy transformed into a small light colored fox with blue eyes. The fox-boy shook the dew from his coat, yapped, and ran out of sight.

Delphi smiled. "Well done, fyglia." With a flash of light, she and the fog were gone.

~*T*~*G*~

A small, scuttling creature ran through a dark wood. Growling and hooting creatures caused the scuttling thing to yelp and shy away from blinking, winking eyes. A break in the trees revealed a crumbling castle. Tattered flags hung limply from sharpened posts. The color of the flags appeared faded and muddy. No creature stood guard save for stone gargoyles with gaping mouths.

The creature hurried over the creaking, rotting drawbridge and passed under the half-formed archway. A great hall ahead of him was lit up with eerie, blue light. At the door, he shifted from one foot to the other as his large, round eyes looked up at the shut portal.

"Permission to enter the Erlking's hall?" the raspy-voiced creature pleaded.

A second passed then the doors swung open to allow enough space for the small creature to squeeze through. As soon as his spiked tail followed the rest of him into the doorway, the large wooden doors swung shut ominously. The creature cowered before turning his attention forward.

A dark-robed figure sat on a raised dias, shadowed in the darkness of the room. Other creatures, darker and more terrifying than the pitiful creature that had entered, lined the walls. They watched the newcomer silently - some hungrily.

"Come forward . . . _Goblin_," the dark figure hissed his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Shuffling slowly, the creature bobbed in an attempt to grovel and bow at the same time. "News, your evilness."

A pale hand rose and fell from the dark throne's armrest. A silent urge to continue.

"The ladies - they have returned."

"What?!" The man shot to his feet. The room grew darker. The creatures along the wall cringed silently back and growled. The small goblin whimpered and covered his head. The man slowly descended the stairs. His boots thumped dully on the broken stones as he approached the creature. "Speak, worm! Be sure you tell me all you know or else I will feed you to _real_ goblins."

Shaking from head to tail, the goblin stuttered, "The - the fae soul sisters! Leanan and Plur! Leanan is with the Troll King and Plur is on the bridge!"

The tall, dark man turned away to cast his black eyes over those assembled. "So . . . they hope to reunite with their lovers once again." Throwing his head back, his laughter shook the ceilings. Howls, screeches, and guffaws echoed him from those assembled. Shaking his head, the man said, "Well, we will just see what happens this time around."

He walked back to the steps of the dias and paused at the first step. "What does . . . the _Goblin King_," he growled, "think of Leanan's return?"

"I - I do not think he knows the Princess is Leanan, your malevolence." The goblin lifted his head to look at the dark cape that face him. "His soul fae has not woken completely yet."

"Princess?" The man echoed in thought. "Ah yes, she conquered the Labyrinth. Conquered . . . the Labyrinth . . ." he trailed off and all was silent again. A dark chuckle curled his pale lips into a snarl. "How absolutely _delicious_!

"My subjects!" He swept around once more to look at the horrifying goblins assembled. "Who do we hate?"

"The Seelie!" Shouted all those in assembly. "Kill the fae! Hate them forever!"

"Yes," the man smiled grotesquely. "The Seelie. Of those Seelie, who do we hate the most? Who drove us from our home? Banished us from our lands? Stole and twisted our purpose?"

"Jareth!" Rang out mixed with boos and growls.

Raising his hands to silence the angered crowd, he asked, "Who is the rightful king of the Goblins if not that imposter?"

In frenzied voices and cheers, the creatures shouted, "Erlking! Herne! Erlking Herne!"

"Long we have fought Jareth and the Seelie. Long we have sided with the Unseelie. Long we have waited to return to our rightful place! We have caused harm and disarray to those of the light. Now - now their _salvation_ has returned to our world. The one who could restore Jareth to all that he is destined to has returned. We have killed her before -"

"And we will kill her again!" Shouted some, slobbering and hungering for the Hunt.

"No!" Herne shouted. All silenced in awe. The Hunter was refusing the Hunt? Unheard of!

"No," he echoed with dark glee. "We will steal the Princess of the pig Jareth. He must wed her to remain king and regain his place. _I_ will wed Leanan's host and with her as my queen, _I_ will become Erlking Herne of the Goblins once more! And _we_," he shouted over the cries of victory, "_we_ will lead the forces of the Unseelie against the Seelie courts!"

The frightened, small goblin of Jareth's kingdom stood cowering in wide-eyed shock as the hideous creatures rallied. What had he done? Unlucky creature that he was. He had incited the enemy to revolution.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I apologize for the long wait. I hit a rut and wasn't sure where to go. This chapter may seem a bit out of place, but it will work together, I promise. Some asked about what Toby was - well - I wasn't going to put him into this story, but I had a really awesome idea. This was originally going to be a lot of fluff - now I came up with a kick*bleep* plot. :) Something wicked this way comes . . .


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Danger

Brenna leaned against the wall. "Namin, I can't walk another step. I need to take a break."

The troll turned around to glare at her, but did not insist they keep moving as he had the last three times she had begged for him to stop. He merely huffed and plopped down in the water.

Brenna stared off into the tunnel - the way they were headed. She still felt a sense of foreboding she could not explain. Turning her head back the way they came, her unease seemed to lessen - a little. Another thought entered her mind. One that had been puzzling her for a while.

Glancing down at Namin, she asked, "Does Jareth know that Sarah is here?"

A strangled yelp escaped Namin's lips. Wide-eyed, he whipped his head to and fro as if searching for something. He stood slowly before returning his attention to the young woman with him. A scowl wrinkled his face as he hissed, "Don't say their names!"

Brenna rolled her eyes. "Namin, he's in the Labyrinth. How could he possibly get here or hear me? I haven't requested him!"

"Better safe than sorry," Namin reminded gruffly. "Come on. We gotta keep movin'."

"If we're going by safe instead of sorry," Brenna interrupted as she sloshed through the water toward the troll, "then I think we ought to go back."

Namin stilled but did not turn around.

"I'm just saying," Brenna continued as she squatted next to her friend, who would not meet her gaze. "I have a bad feeling about this place. What if we run into Billy Goats or something? You didn't answer me when I asked if they were still around."

"Cause they are," Namin murmured. "And other things, but I know the Bridge! We're heading down a safe path. Wouldn't lead ya where it's dangerous."

Brenna frowned. "Other things? I thought the Bridge was safe for all travelers. Since when were there safe and dangerous paths?"

"Since - the Goblin King lost," Namin murmured hesitantly.

"You mean - when he lost to Sarah? What does that have anything to do with the Bridge?"

"Lots of places is dangerous now," Namin explained with a shake of his hairy head. "Ja - I mean - the Goblin King - something happened to him. He doesn't take care of the Labyrinth like he should be or did. It's dangerous and moving, unchecked into other realms." He looked into Brenna's confused eyes with a look of fear in his own. "Bad things come out of the Labyrinth. Things that the Goblin King and the Seelie Court trapped in it - never to be freed again!"

"Why? Why has he stopped controlling it?"

"Cause she _defeated_ him!" Namin insisted. "Don't you see? She told ya, didn't she? He had all the power a fae could have! Over time, dreams, faes, and humans! But she's a fae that has struggled with time, chased after dreams, and lives inside a human! When she told 'im he had no power over her - he lost _everything_! Supposedly," Namin continued in a hushed voice, "he can gain back everythin', but he needs help doin' that."

"He needs Sarah," Brenna whispered to herself in thought. Her eyebrows dipped in confusion. "So is he trying to get her too? Does - does the Troll King -"

A roar ripped through the air.

The pair froze as a warm, sickening breeze wafted toward them from the path they had been traveling.

Brenna reached a hand for Namin's and clasped it. "What was that?" She whispered in fright.

Thunderous footsteps approached, causing the water to ripple and the walls to shake.

Namin swallowed several times to gain the ability to speak. "'member how I said things got loose from the Labyrinth?"

The pair had to tilt their heads back to look up at the thing that had horns brushing the curved roof of the Bridge.

Brenna gasped, "A minotaur!"

The creature with a head of a bull resting on top of the body of a man glowered down at them. A snort of putrid breath billowed from his snout, followed by another bellow from his gaping, blood-covered mouth.

"Run!" Namin shouted as he propelled Brenna back the way they had come.

The minotaur lifted two fisted hands into the air and dropped them on the place the pair had stood moments before. The whole Bridge shook and the friends nearly toppled to the ground. Brenna held onto Namin's hand and tugged him along. Taller than him and faster, she pulled ahead and urged him along.

A sound like low laughter rumbled behind them. Instead of running after, the minotaur followed after at a steady walk.

"He's - he's going - to wait till we wear out!" Namin puffed wearily.

"There has to be a way to get away from him!" Brenna replied.

Namin darted to the side in order to see ahead of them. "Break in the path!"

They skidded to a halt and looked both ways. Which way had they come from? Which way would lead them to safety? Another roar caused them to look back once more. Brenna looked down at her frightened friend and made a decision. He was in this mess because of her. Sarah was in this mess because of her.

"You go left," she stated.

"What?" Namin looked up in surprise.

"Go left," she repeated. "I'll go right and lead him off. I think - if I remember what Sarah said once when she studied Greek mythology - the minotaur is only interested in - in human flesh."

"That's crazy!" Namin argued. "I'm not gonna leave you alone with that thing!"

"If it gets too close, I'll just call for the Troll King," Brenna argued. "We were headed for his castle anyway."

"Ya _can't_, Brenna."

"I can, and I will." Brenna leaned down to give her friend a hug. "I can't let anything happen to you because of me," she whispered into his ear. With a shove, she pushed him down the left path. Without looking back, even when he shouted her name, Brenna ran toward the sound of a waterfall.

She climbed up one of the tunnels without water as a child - as a grown woman, she would climb up one with water.

A splash of cold water alerted her that she had run directly into the sheet of water falling from above her. Brenna looked up and spied a low hanging vine. She jumped for all her worth - and missed.

Namin's voice as well as the thundering of the minotaur were growing closer. For a split second, she thought the troll stupid for following her, but she pushed the thought away again. The minotaur had obviously followed one of them down this tunnel. If she could get a head start up the waterfall, maybe Namin would never know what she had done and the minotaur would try to follow her up instead of go after Namin.

She jumped again. This time her fingers barely brushed the vine. She landed heavily on her knees and pain shot up her right leg. Hissing in pain, Brenna stood up again. One more chance. Just one more chance!

Heart hammering, knee throbbing, and panic welling up inside her, Brenna jumped once more.

Her hands grasped tightly onto the vine. Willing herself to climb, Brenna cursed herself mentally for not being more athletic. Once she had a better hold on the vines, branches, and roots that made up the bridge walls, Brenna began climbing.

Unlike the first time she had done this, the walls were slick from water and moist vegetation. It took all her concentration to keep climbing. She almost slipped and fell when she heard Namin shout right below her. Brenna chanced a brief glance down and saw him run on by below her. A sigh of relief escaped her. Her friend was safe for now.

A loud roar from the minotaur reminded her that she needed to continue climbing.

The edge of a drop off assured her that she was gaining ground. If she could make it up to that ledge, she would continue on level ground. Legs shaking and throbbing with exertion, Brenna pulled herself up the last few feet.

She lay on her back panting for breath and stared up at the ceiling. The sound of water running lulled her heart to a normal, steady beat. Brenna closed her eyes to the peaceful sound.

Eyes shooting open, Brenna sat up in panic. Where were the sounds of the minotaur?

A thunderous roar shook the entire tunnel. A large hand gripped onto the ledge where she had been resting moments before she rolled away. Brenna's scream tore through the air as she scrambled to her feet and began running once more. From the sounds behind her, the minotaur was attempting to come up after her.

Where to run? Where to go?

She ran blindly down the tunnel. Brenna could hear the minotaur gaining speed. It was angry now. Tired of the chase and ready for its meal. Brenna spied a light ahead of her. She had to make it to that light. She didn't know why, but she knew it was important to get there.

Brenna ran straight toward the light she broke through the dark tunnel to the light - only to find air beneath her feet. For what felt like an eternity, she felt herself float like a cartoon character would as she looked down the gaping tunnel. Water roared all around from the connecting tunnels.

Gravity seemed to catch up with her and Brenna felt herself falling into the open space.

Another scream rent its way from Brenna's mouth.

Vines caught her under her arms. With a sickening jerk, Brenna stopped falling. A strangled yelp passed her lips as she stared at the vines and then staring in terror at the fall she had been saved from. Shaking and sweating, Brenna gasped for breath to calm herself and to replenish her lost stores of oxygen.

The bellow of the minotaur caught her attention a split second later. Wide-eyed, Brenna stared into the dark tunnel she had just jumped from and saw the even darker figure of the minotaur barreling towards her.

Frantically, she began grasping at the vines hoping she could pull herself up to some safe place.

The minotaur missed the fact that he too was about to spring right out into open space. All he saw was a human trapped in vines. His meaty hands stretched out to grab her!

With another sickening jolt, Brenna was hoisted several feet into the air. The minotaur's hands clutched thin air. His growl of anger was quickly replaced by a look of animalistic fear. Without a hand hold of the safety of the vines that held Brenna, the minotaur fell down the tunnel with a horrific cry.

Brenna watched as long as her terrified and morbid curiosity would allow. She didn't hear the final landing of the creature, but the distant echoing bellow chilled her to her very heart.

Finally, she looked up to where she could just see the lip of the ledge the vines were attached to some feet above her. Brenna, unable to speak from her exhausted state, merely tugged weakly on the vine. Slowly, whoever was above her and controlling the vines began the process of hoisting her up.

When Brenna could reach the twisting, twining ledge of the new tunnel, she shakily pulled herself up. She collapsed on her side when she reached level ground and just allowed herself to feel the shock and adrenaline leave her. Scuttling of feet alerted her to her rescuer's presence.

"Thank you," she gasped out before lifting her head to see who it was she was thanking.

For what felt like the thousandth time since her ordeal began in the Troll Bridge, Brenna froze with fear. Standing a few feet away from her were two satyrs.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: DundunDUN!<strong>

**What next? Oh! Right. I am SOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOOOOOOOO sorry for the delay, folks! I was having some serious computer problems this summer and was unable to connect to the internet. :( Stupid wifi card died. Now the prob is fixed! Sadly, I don't know how often I'll be posting cause of school, wedding planning, life, etc.**

**To show you how guilty I feel about this, I'm posting this suspense filled chapter! ;) Where's Namin? Who're the satyrs? Will the minotaur come back? How will Sarah and Brenna restore order to the Underground? Who was the creepy guy in the last chapter that wants to take over the Goblin Kingdom and potentially the world?!**

**All will be made clear in due time . . . I hope.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Remember

Sarah stared out her window and sighed as a clock chimed somewhere in her room. It was late - or so the clock said. She wondered if anyone knew she was missing - other than Brenna. How much time had passed back at home? The last time Sarah had been Underground, her journey had spanned only a few hours.

Wearily, she stood and made her way to the large, canopy bed. Eseld had come by to check on her and turn the covers down, but Sarah was nowhere near sleep at that time. Her head was spinning with what she had been told she must do to save Jareth, the Underground, and the Labyrinth.

She tried to climb into the bed, relax, and sleep. Sleep would not come. She lay in bed until the clock chimed another hour had passed. With a frustrated growl, Sarah propelled herself out of the bed and stormed out of her room.

The halls were deserted due to the hour. That was fine with Sarah. She had a plan in mind and she did not want to be stopped or dissuaded from her goal. After her time in the Labyrinth, Sarah prided herself on having an exceptional sense of direction. No matter where she was - even if she had never been there before - she could find her way. Her path led her to the doors with the imperfect glass. Without hesitation, she flung the doors opened and stepped into the room.

Her slippered feet became wet and the hem of her nightgown and robe were soaked through. Sarah approached the marble statues boldly. They did not speak to her as they had before. She marched right past them and hurried up the steps to the garden.

Her attention did not waver from the stone pavilion. The garden in the darkness of the night did little to distract her.

Sarah entered the pavilion and stared at the stone pedestal with the basin and pitcher waiting quietly in the pale moonlight. She was no Oracle. She knew that much. Her hands curled around the cold metal handle of the pitcher. Sarah had questions. Many, in fact. She watched and listened as the water poured from the pitcher's lip and splashed into the basin. She may not control past or future, but Sarah was the Princess of the Labyrinth now. If she had some kind of magical power - like _him_ - then she could see or remember _something_!

Sarah settled the pitcher back down and continued to stare as the water in the basin smoothed out and became still. Raising a hand, she reached out and touched a finger to the water's surface. A ripple formed and grew from where she touched.

"_Leanan!"_

_Sarah whirled around to stare in shock at Brenna's fast approaching form. A smile broke out over her face and she opened her arms. Her mouth opened. Instead of saying, "Brenna!" Sarah heard herself greet her friend as, "Plur!"_

_While Sarah was mentally puzzled, her body continued moving without her consent or knowledge. The pair embraced each other fondly before breaking apart._

"_Oh, Leanan!" Brenna-Plur sighed happily. "I have missed you so!"_

"_And I you, sister," Sarah-Leanan agreed. "Come! I have much to tell you." _

_The pair walked arm-in-arm through a garden full of roses and floating lights. Sarah looked around briefly, a smile on her face. The lights glowed and dimmed like fireflies, but, if one flew closer to her, she could see it was a delicately small fairy - like the ones Hoggle had sprayed with repellant. Instead of feeling wary about the creature, Sarah only felt a sense of camaraderie - or belonging._

"_Have you met them then?" Brenna-Plur interrupted Sarah-Leanan's thoughts._

_Sarah looked at her ginger-haired friend and saw a blush had crept up Brenna's cheeks. Sarah chuckled and her grip on Brenna's arm tightened. "Yes! I have met your betrothed! He is an honorable, gentle man. I have no doubt you will be smitten!"_

"_Leanan!" Brenna-Plur gasped in shock. "I could never be smitten with - with anyone!"_

"_You are too shy and timid for your own good, dear sister," Sarah-Leanan teased. "But I think your gentleness will endear you to him and he to you when you see his sweet, gentle nature. You two will have mounds to talk about! You both love music so much."_

_Brenna perked up at the news. "He enjoys music?"_

"_And plays too," Sarah assured her friend._

_A pleased silence fell upon Brenna as well as a smile to match her pleasure. The pair walked in companionable silence a while longer, but Brenna stopped walking, which caused Sarah to focus once more on the girl beside her._

"_And your betrothed, sister?" Brenna-Plur enquired quietly, curiously._

_Sarah felt herself frown. "He is - interesting."_

"_Interesting?" Brenna-Plur's expression of confusion matched her vocal inflections. "How is he interesting?"_

"_He is -" Sarah-Leanan trailed off. Thoughts flew through Sarah's mind that she did not recognize right away. All the thoughts were negative - except the predominant factor of how handsome he was. Yet he was arrogant because of his looks._

"_He is?" Brenna-Plur prompted expectantly._

_With a huff, Sarah pulled away and sat on a cushioned bench. "He is stubborn, competitive, petty, childish, a brute, a boar, rude, intolerable, incorrigible, and -!"_

_Rumbling laughter mixed with musical chuckles caused both girls to look up as an elegant man and woman approached. Sarah stared in wide-eyed admiration of the beauty of them both - physically as well as the aura they exuded._

"_My daughter has found her match," the man teased lovingly._

"_Father!" Sarah-Leanan protested. "Jareth is hardly my match or likeness in any way!"_

_A cough from Brenna-Plur caught Sarah's attention and the brunette whirled around to glare warningly at her friend._

"_Now, Leanan," the woman chided while the man chuckled. "You know what a handful you can be - especially in the Seelie Court."_

"_Your mother and I chose these men for very specific reasons," the man - their father - continued. "I hope you will take the time to understand this insufferable man."_

_Sarah pouted, much like she would have done before she had run through the Labyrinth. "Even father thinks he is deplorable," she grumbled to herself._

Sarah gasped as the ripples stopped. She looked all about her to see if anyone had found her. No sign of another person. Biting her, lip, she debated whether she touch the water again. That had been her and Brenna - when they were still faes. Hadn't it?

She reached out a hesitant hand and touched the water again.

_Music floated over the forest. Sarah stood off to the side of the great gathering of faes. Her eyes watched with amusement as the dark-haired man with the flute coaxed Brenna into a duet. Brenna was blushing prettily, but seemed to be enjoying herself._

Why shouldn't she?_ Sarah heard herself - or Leanan - think. The sisterly smile vanished from her lips when Sarah's gaze glanced in the direction of another gentleman at the gathering._

_Wild, blonde hair with streaks of bluish-silver was busy with a crowd of onlookers. He whispered something with a roguish smile to the female beside him. Her cheeks colored and a tittering laugh of embarrassment left her brightly painted lips._

_Sarah scoffed at the display. How impertinent! How bold, brash, and foolish! How dare he make a mockery of her father and herself?_

_As if her uncharitable thoughts had been shouted across the dance circle, his mismatched eyes found her green eyes. Their gazes clashed - his smug and condescending, hers angry and judgmental. With a huff, she turned on her heels and allowed herself to melt into the darkness of the forest._

_Sarah wandered farther and farther away from the light of the party. She was not at all interested at seeing what _he_ was up to. She was not interested in her future husband's stupidity._

_Leaning against a tree, Sarah felt her shoulders sag with sadness. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. "It's not fair," she whispered to herself. Brenna had a wonderful match. He was madly in love with her and practically fell all over himself in order to gain her attention and affection. Brenna - the gentle soul - needed little to no encouragement when she realized the kindred spirit she had found in the man chosen to be her husband._

"_What's not fair, princess?"_

_Sarah spun around in surprise and irritation when she heard _him_ speak. Jareth stood a distance away from her, watching her with that superior, smug expression._

"_Bored with your audience already, sir?" Sarah retorted as she bristled at his constant smirk._

_He shrugged lazily. "A bunch of jesters really. They entertain me more than I entertain them. What isn't fair, princess?"_

"_I am not a princess," Sarah corrected him and turned away again. "Only a lady in the faerie court."_

"_You keep evading the question," Jareth accused irritably._

"_I wonder if you feel quite put out," she quipped with a small victorious smile spreading across her lips. "You always get what you want from anybody. It must be infuriating when one woman will not answer you."_

"_Leanan," he growled warningly, "do not defy me!"_

_Sarah whirled around - recognizing the words even though Leanan perhaps did not. "I am not your slave, sir! Nor am I one of your _jesters_." She moved to march past him, back to the party and back to her sister. "Do not speak to me again."_

_His gloved hand darted out and caught her just above her elbow. Sarah gasped at the strength of his grasp and the sudden jerk that brought her within inches of his nose. Staring wide-eyed up at him, she wondered whether he was going to kiss her or yell at her._

_Jareth's eyes glared into her's until a sneer rose on his lips. "Jealous?"_

_Sarah tried to pull away, a frown rising on her lips at the look on his face and the sound in his voice. "Jealous? Me? Of your jesters? Hardly!"_

"_No," he drawled as he pulled her close once more. "Jealous - of your sister."_

"_Of Plur?!" Sarah felt her gaze slide away from the intense gaze of the man holding her._

"_Jealous that she has such a foolish sop falling at her feet. You want a man to simply fall all over you. Men have fallen at your feet before - oh faerie sweetheart." He laughed at the flush of embarrassment and anger that touched Sarah's cheeks. "Oh, yes, I know all about your trysts with the mortal men. How your dark beauty leaves them distraught. How they write love ballads to their faerie sweetheart - their faerie _mistress_." He spat the word at her. Sarah felt tears sting her eyes once more. "Well, I will _not_ fall at your feet, Leanan! I am not some love-stricken _fool_!"_

"_And I am not a mistress!" Sarah countered around a sob in her throat. Her eyes, filled with tears now streaming down her face, turned up to gaze mournfully into his. "Is it wrong that I visit the mortals and seek to guide them to write beautiful things? Is it wrong to inspire them? I have never once encouraged them to love me! But I do want love!_

"_Yes, I am jealous of Plur! She has found a man who loves her! I?" She made a sound between a sob and a laugh. "I am stuck with a man who thinks - who thinks I am nothing but a common barmaid in a mortal tavern."_

_Sarah jerked her arm away from Jareth's hand. She fled into the woods, never once looking back. Her tears flowed freely now. How dare he? How dare he! She collapsed to the forest floor._

"_Leanan?"_

_Her shoulders stilled from their jerking, sobbing motions. She dare not look up. Not now. Not here!_

"_Oh, Leanan." Her sister's arms wrapped around her and stroked her hair. Sarah looked up at Brenna's grief stricken face._

"_Plur," Sarah cried. She held onto her sister and cried until she could cry no more._

Sarah tore herself away from the basin and shook her head. It was so strange! She knew the people in the vision were herself, Brenna, Jareth, and Yaron. She knew that, but yet she felt no connection whatsoever to the memories! She felt an out-of-body experience and yet she could see and feel everything her past self - Leanan was seeing and feeling.

Her utter horror and Jareth's words. Her envy toward her sister. Her heartbreak that the man that she was destined to marry thought of her as a slut.

"Does he still think that way?" Sarah whispered in horror. "Will he think of me that way if he ever - remembers?"

Her gaze slid over to the basin. Should she look at it again? What became of them? Did anything happy come of all of this?

Her curiosity won out.

_It was Leanan's birthday. Such an event did not merit any celebration when faes aged past childhood. She knew it was the day of her birth, but beyond that, the event brought nothing new._

_Plur was out riding with her betrothed._

_Leanan was sitting in the garden singing to herself as she often did when alone._

_She knew _he_ was supposed to arrive some time that afternoon. She really didn't care._

_Not for the first time, Leanan sighed. "It's not fair."_

"_You say that so often," his voice broke through her tranquility. "I wonder what your basis of comparison is."_

"_Good day, sir." Leanan greeted coldly as she touched the flower she held between her fingers._

_Jareth approached slowly but did not enter her line of vision. "What was that song you were singing?"_

_She bristled and answered in clipped words, "One a - mortal wrote for me." She waited for the stinging remark, yet none came._

_Instead, he set something wrapped in a fine cloth down on the space beside her. "I brought you something."_

_Leanan glanced down at it warily. "What is it?"_

"_It's a gift," he answered testily. "Nothing more, nothing less."_

_Cautiously, she lifted the gift from where it lay beside her and slowly unwrapped it. A red book with gold lettering on the cover peeked out from the cloth. Leanan opened it to the first page. _Verses dedicated to the princess. Written by Jareth, Lord of Dreams.

"_What -?" She turned to look at him, but he was gone._

Sarah stood puzzling over that. Hadn't that been the cover of her _Labyrinth_ book? The exact cover? She looked again.

_Leanan slowly approached the man surrounded by those he called jesters. She was uncertain whether she should approach him at all. She stood on the edge of the crowd and listened to the story he was recounting to his listeners._

_She wanted to thank him for the gift. Wanted to share the music she and Plur and written to go along with the lovely words. For the first time since the announcement of who she was betrothed to, Leanan felt a twinge of some hope. Maybe - if they couldn't love each other at least - maybe they could be friends._

_Jareth's eyes met hers as the crowd erupted into laughter. She nodded timidly, hoping he would understand without the use of words that she wished to speak with him. He turned, however, and walked away, leading the crowd with him._

_Leanan felt herself wilt. Plur was beside her instantly. "Don't give up, Leanan," Plur insisted. "He is a fool, but he wouldn't have bothered for any reason."_

And again.

_Another gathering. Another crowd._

_Leanan pushed her way through it to get to him. He _had_ to speak with her!_

_She made it to the center, but he was no longer there._

Sarah growled in frustration. She remembered all too well the cat-and-mouse chase.

She looked again.

_Leanan wandered sadly through the crowd of people. She looked around for any sign of _him_._

_There were none._

_Plur's encouragement echoed in her ear. Don't give up. He had a reason. He is a fool. He had a reason._

_Leanan spun around. The feeling of intense, mismatched eyes causing her to search the expanse of people behind her._

_No one._

_The chords of the next song began to beckon people to the dance circle. Chords that sounded oh so familiar. Tears sprang to her eyes. The words, _it's not fair_ almost sprang to her lips, but ended lodged in her throat. The words - the words to this song - they were _his_ words! Set to _her_ tune!_

_Frantically looking around once more for him - Leanan practically ran into someone. She looked up in alarm to apologize, but again, her words were lodged somewhere in her throat._

_Jareth stood looking down on her with a strange expression on his face. Wordlessly, he took her hands in his and guided her into the dance. He swept her around and -_

Sarah backed away from the bowl before the scene could end and the ripples could cease. She was trembling from head to foot. She knew that song. She knew that look. The song didn't die and neither did the ripples even though she was nowhere near the basin.

"I love you, Leanan." Sarah covered her ears, but still heard her own voice echo from the basin.

"And I you, Jareth."

Memories. These were memories. _Her_ memories!

"He wrote that for me!" Sarah gasped as she stumbled back onto a seat.

"You cannot end there, Sarah." She looked up as Delphi strode up the steps. Her gaze was fixated on the basin that Sarah had left. "You started this quest for knowledge, now you must finish it. Have you learned nothing from the Labyrinth? Once a quest is started -"

"It must be completed," Sarah finished in a quiet voice. "But - what if I don't like what I see?"

Delphi's expression turned sad. "There is no 'if', Sarah. You will _not_ like what you see, but perhaps it is what you need to see. Come."

Sarah stood once more and approached the basin. Dread rose inside of her as she touched a finger once more to the water.

_Leanan looked out over the landscape. Desolated. The Erlking had done this to the land._

_She looked to her future husband and the future king of this desolated land. Jareth stared grimly down at his future domain._

"_Was this the right decision?" He queried aloud._

"_The Seelie Court knows best," Leanan answered. "They chose you for a reason."_

_Jareth shook his head. "How could anyone do this to a land?"_

_Leanan looked once more at the land. "How could any creature do what he did to those - mortal children?"_

_Arms wrapped around her. "We will heal this land," he assured her. "The two of us. With the help of Plur and Yaron - we _will_ heal this land."_

The water continued to ripple, but the water seemed to darken.

_Leanan rushed across the battlefield. The ground was strewn with faeries, goblins, faes, and many more. Her heart pounded in her ears yet felt as if it had fallen to her feet. The words, _It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair!_ Reverberated with each footstep, with each ragged breath, with each heartbeat._

"_Jareth!" She shouted. Her eyes blurred as his figure fell - crumpled to the ground._

_Plur's keening wail joined Leanan's from nearby._

_Leanan knelt before Jareth, gazing at his eyes that seemed to be losing all life and spark before her very eyes. She couldn't heal him. No fae could! The treacherous Erlking had used iron. Iron! That hated metal - he had used it against his own kind!_

"_Jareth, love, please!" Leanan begged as she cradled his head._

"_Come to join your husband?" The fiend mocked from somewhere behind her. Jareth had felled him too, but not before the traitor had killed Yaron and injured Plur._

_The Erlking was too far gone with his own injuries to be of much threat to Leanan now. So she ignored him so she could spend her last few moments mourning her husband._

"_Leanan," Jareth gasped as he lifted a bloodied hand to press his fingers to her cheek. His gaze swept over her face in order to never forget it. "I will be there for you," he sang with his last breath, "as the world falls down."_

_Leanan felt herself shake. No. No no no no no no! "It's not fair!"_

_A smile graced his features. "You say that," he whispered as his eyes glazed over, "so often. Wonder - what -"_

_Energy swirled around Leanan as she felt herself draw up her magic. "I will not lose you!" Rising to her feet, Leanan clapped her hands above her head. Eyes glowing and tears streaming down her face, she shouted, "Souls of dearly departed! Wander, never to rest! Once love has won and lives are blest! Rejoin in other lives in other times!" With one final shriek, Leanan fell and all went black._

Sarah stumbled back, her eyes wide.

Delphi stared quietly at the shaken girl. "You see what knowledge has done?" she queried darkly.

"I - I did this to us?" Sarah asked.

"You did," Delphi confirmed. "You brought back not only Plur, Jareth, and Yaron, but you also brought back your enemy. Herne, the Erlking. For centuries now he has struggled with Jareth. Every reincarnation of your souls have been caught in the never ending battle. Your soul and Plur's became so weakened by the loss of your loves countless times, that you fled the Underground, hoping to rejoin your loves another way. However, Jareth and Yaron did not join you. They remained Underground while you and Plur died many more times due to mortality.

"Now you both have returned," Delphi continued, "and the battle must begin again. You _must_ win this time, for I do not know how much longer your souls can last. Your memories have been denied you every time you have been reborn. You must reawaken Plur's and Jareth's memories now."

"Yaron?"

"I have known for a long time," the troll king ascended the steps slowly. Sarah looked up, startled to see him. His mask hid his face and the shadows cast over his eyes hid the emotions that he must be feeling. "I remembered when Brenna accepted the gift - as innocently as Plur did those many millenniums ago."

"How?" Sarah begged. "How do I get Jareth to remember me?"

"It won't be easy," Delphi confided. "Not when he has shut himself off because of your rejections. He has no hope anymore."

Sarah felt herself wilt. "Brenna said - Plur said -"

"Never give up," Yaron finished for her. "And we won't. We must try to remind him another way."

"He won't take kindly to _you_ showing up," Delphi insisted. "We must remind him another way."

Sarah looked up at them both. "That's why we need Brenna," she whispered. "You want her to act as our go-between."

Yaron was about to speak, but was quickly interrupted by a ball of hair that was shouting and running toward them. It babbled something unintelligible and sounded overwhelmed, distressed, and frightened beyond belief.

"Whieest!" Yaron shouted angrily.

Sarah and the ball of hair flinched, but Delphi merely looked on gravely.

"Repeat whit ye jist said, slowly," Yaron growled.

The creature made an audible gulp before stammering, "I l-l-lost 'er, sire. Th-th-th-there was a - a - a minotaur on the Bridge."

What little bit of Yaron could be seen beneath the mask paled considerably. He spun on his heel and set off down the path at a brisk pace.

Sarah jumped to her feet. "What are you going to do?" She called after him.

"Aam gonnae fin' 'er," he answered over his shoulder. "Ah wulnae lose 'er again!"

She ran to catch up. "I'm going with you!"

Yaron glanced back briefly. He looked like he was going to protest, but Sarah's green eyes lit up with an inner fire. "She's my sister!" She reminded him. "I lost her too, you know!"

A quick nod settled the matter. He set off again and said, "Keep up."

Delphi watched the pair and the miserable troll disappear from the garden. Her gaze clouded over and she trembled as the fog began to roll in again. "It has begun."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: You must be asking, "What has begun?" Well, we'll get there eventually. :)<strong>

**Confused yet? Hope so - yet kinda hope you're following the new plot-bunny at least a little bit. ;) As requested, I cut out more of Yaron's accent. I threw in a little bit cause I want to convey that he loses control of his accent when upset. I feel like I shouldn't have to explain that, but I did. . . oh well. Sorry the last chapter seemed rushed. It was and wasn't intended to be that way. I wanted the pace to keep moving and I wanted it to be disjointed since the emotions Brenna are feeling are just kinda on high speed. I didn't want it to seem like I hadn't put any forethought or thought at all into it.**

**So, anywho, hope you enjoy this chapter update! =D No worries, we'll get back to poor Brenna soon. ;) Like . . . next chapter soon. Maybe.**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Search

Brenna's first reaction was to scream. Her scream resulted in the two satyrs' screams. The pair scrambled comically backwards, and, if she were not near the edge of the deep cavern, she would have backed up as well. Instead, she jumped to her feet hoping her height would frighten them more.

She watched warily and curiously as the two goat-people hid a ways away from her behind a knot in the tunnel walls. Brenna felt her erratic heart-beat slow, and her gasps subside. Slowly, she approached the hiding place and listened to the whimpers and pleas of the satyrs.

"Please don't hurt us!"

"Don't mean you no harm!"

Brenna peered over the knot at the huddled creatures, clinging to each other in fear with their eyes tightly shut. She couldn't help but wonder if they were in fact children. They didn't look like any pictures of satyrs she had seen.

"I-I'm sorry for screaming," she began. The close proximity of her voice must have startled them, because their eyes flew open to look up at her in fear. Brenna forced a smile on her face and hoped it looked convincing enough to calm them. "You startled me - that's all."

"Startled _you_?" One asked incredulously.

"You ran from a Minotaur, and we scared, _you_?!" the other continued, his voice cracking painfully.

Brenna shrugged. "I thought - you were someone else."

The pair released each other and looked on in wary curiosity. "Who?" they asked simultaneously.

"Billy Goats - more specifically, Mikhael and Stefanos," she answered as she looked around her surroundings.

The two yelped and caught her attention once more. They were both pale and trembling. "Those are _bad_ goats!" The one - who appeared taller and a tad older - asserted.

The younger and smaller of the two nodded his head vigorously, enough to set his teeth rattling.

"And you're - not?" Brenna questioned.

"Certainly not!" the elder satyr pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. "We're Gruffs!"

"But - aren't Billy Goats Gruff the same?" She felt her face pucker into a confused frown as she took this information in.

The younger snorted and shook his head again. "No! There are two families. The Billys and the Gruffs. The Billys are mean - the Gruffs are good."

"Gruffs are allowed on the Bridge - but Billys aren't because they bother the other Travelers," the older satyr explained.

"Are you two Travelers then?"

The pair looked at each other with sad expressions before bowing their heads in shame. "We - we got separated," the elder explained.

"We were naughty - not _bad_ like Billys - but we left the Guide and our parents." The younger satyr sniffed loudly.

"We've been down here a long time!" the elder mourned. "We've been forgotten and lost." The younger satyr sobbed and earned a comforting hug from the elder.

Brenna gently placed a hand on their heads and rubbed the curly hair between the stubs of horns that were barely poking out from the curls. The gesture must have been welcomed because the two boys looked up at her with an expression of relief and gratitude.

"Well, I've lost my Guide too," Brenna stated, "but at least I'm an adult. So you two stick with me."

The pair brightened and nodded enthusiastically.

Brenna removed her hands from their heads and looked up and down the tunnel once more. "So, the question is, which way?"

"Depends," the elder said, "which way you want to go."

"I don't suppose either of you would know how to get to the Troll King's Castle," Brenna sighed.

"Yes!" the younger satyr shouted cheerfully. "Everyone knows that!"

"It's at the top of the waterfall!" The elder added as he stood up and helped the other satyr up. "Just head upstream."

Brenna blinked in surprise. "Really?" The pair nodded and happily stood on either side of her and took her hands. They tugged her along and she laughed at their excitement. "Well, maybe we can find a way to send you two back to your parents when we get there - and I can rescue my friend."

"Rescue her from what?" the younger one asked.

Brenna bit her lip, deciding not to explain that one. "By the way," she evaded, "what're your names?"

"Elias." The younger satyr answered.

"And I'm Gavrill," the elder answered.

Brenna smiled back at them. "Nice to meet you both. Now, let's find that castle!"

~*T*~*G*~

Yaron teleported himself, Sarah, and Namin back to the place Namin last saw Brenna. He took a deep breath to regain his focus after they solidified then opened his eyes to look around the Bridge. It was evident by the newly fallen and snapped twigs and roots of the Bridge that something large had rampaged through here.

The stench of beasts and men assailed him and made his eyes water beneath his mask. He swallowed back the bile that threatened to leave his mouth. Focus. He needed to find Plur - Brenna - before it was too late. Yaron felt a headache coming on as his past self struggled to assert _his_ memories of Plur on top of Yaron's knowledge of Brenna. With a hand pressed to his forehead, Yaron took another long, deep breath - this time through his mouth to avoid the sickening smell of Minotaur, blood, sweat, and fear that swirled in the enclosed walls of the Bridge.

"Which way, Namin?" Sarah demanded, gaining Yaron's gaze.

"She pro'ly climbed," Namin explained as he pointed up the cavern that let water fall from its hidden height. "She's done it before - when she was a youngin'."

Yaron strode to join Sarah and looked up the way that Namin was pointing. His gaze searched the darkness and he nodded. "She did go this way."

Sarah looked over at the fae beside her with a mixture of confusion. "How do you know?"

"A piece of her clothes is stuck tae a branch, there." Yaron pointed to the fabric he had made out. "I can see better than ye," he explained, "at least in the dark. Thanks tae my - father's side."

She nodded and looked up again. Simply accepting the fact. "Okay, so how do we get up there?"

"Gettin' up there i'dn't the problem!" Namin protested. "The problem is which tunnel she climbed to! Where she went from _that_ tunnel! Whether she climbed into another tunnel -!"

"Th' point," Yaron explained calmly, "is 'at she could be in any number of tunnels by now."

"Can't you just - appear where she is?" Sarah demanded. "J- I mean - your cousin did it all the time when I was in the Labyrinth."

Yaron shook his head and sighed irritably. "Nae! I have nae sight on 'er. I huvnae had any sight of 'er since 'er flute was - misplaced."

Sarah frowned in confusion. "What does that -?"

"Th' only reason my cousin was always able tae find ye was because he had the ability tae locate ye. He controlled an' ruled over dreams." Yaron turned to look at her. "He had been watchin' ye for a long time. Because of 'at, he was always able tae find ye. Until ye broke his powers over ye, he could find ye anywhere at anytime. I could too when Pl- _Brenna_," he corrected himself and ignored the look Sarah gave him for his slip. "When Brenna was in possession of th' flute. It was our connection - but 'er family took it from 'er. Hid it from 'er. It wisnae until she had it again at that house that I was able tae see 'er again. She left it at that house. I cannae find 'er. That is why I had Namin as 'er Guide."

"Why not find her because of her dreams?" Sarah questioned.

"_I_ dinae control dreams," Yaron explained insistently. "I control th' Bridge, water, plant life - my cousin controls th' unseen. My elements are th' seen an' tangible."

"Then use the Bridge, water, plant life - whatever! Use _that_ to find her!" Sarah exclaimed.

"It's nae that simple -"

"Have you tried?"

Yaron was about to snap back a retort, when from above them they heard a shout. The adults looked up to see Namin waving at them from another tunnel. "She went this way!" He hollered down at them. The Troll King nodded and looked at Sarah. Without so much as asking, he wrapped an arm around her waist and with a leap, reached the tunnel without so much as a thought.

He released her and ignored her startled gasp that had been lodged within her from the jump. Yaron followed after the scuttling troll and did not listen to Sarah's grumbling from behind her. He had to find Brenna. He could not lose her again!

~*T*~*G*~

As the trio travelled upstream, Brenna asked Elias and Gavrill to tell her about themselves. She learned that they were brothers and had been travelling through the Bridge to a safer part of the Underground. The Labyrinth had grown wild, as Namin had said. The pair was too young to understand why and had no explanation for it. They only knew that their home had been slowly "eaten" by the stone maze. Creatures whose names had been lost from the knowledge of the fae appeared again and ravaged the land.

Brenna couldn't help but wonder if this had really been all of Sarah's doing or if this Goblin King was just throwing a royal tantrum.

When the Bridge began to take a steep incline, Brenna learned that they were getting closer to their destination. She had to crawl and climb on her hands and knees sometimes while the boys clambered up easily - like goats.

She hoped she would see Namin at the castle. She wondered if he had continued toward the castle or if he had gone looking for her. Brenna's heart sank. Did he know she was still alive? Determination spurned her onward. As soon as she found Sarah, Brenna would go look for Namin.

"Come on, slowpoke!" Elias teased from somewhere above her. His childish giggling elicited a gasp that was supposed to be a laugh from the young woman.

"If I had known I would be - climbing - to the top of - a _waterfall_ - I would have practiced rock climbing," Brenna panted. "Or - climbed more trees as a kid." She wrinkled her nose at the idea. She hated heights and sports and exercise. Oh well. She was in fairly good shape from playing and, or carrying her various instruments. This was just a really steep incline.

Brenna sighed in relief when she reached the top where Elias and Gavrill stood in quivering anticipation to continue. She took a break to scoop a handful of the cold, clear water from the river beside them and drank it. Her thirst quickly abated and she felt refreshed. "Is this water magic?" she asked the satyr children.

"Maybe," Gavrill answered with a shrug. "Probably is for mortals."

"Come on!" Elias exclaimed. "The gate is this way!"

"Gate?" Brenna inquired as she and Gavrill followed after the young satyr.

"Uh-huh." Gavrill answered. "you didn't think they'd let _anybody_ into the castle did you?"

"Well - I thought that because there were Gates to the Bridge - and Guides - that naturally no one would be led up here unless they were supposed to be up here," Brenna explained hesitantly as they approached what appeared to be an overgrowth of thorns.

Gavrill shook his head. "Nope! Gotta know how to open this Gate. Guides can't just waltz in either. Gotta have the password from the king himself!"

Brenna wanted to smash a frustrated fist against the Gate but refrained to avoid getting her hand skewered on the thorns. "Well, now what?" she asked herself aloud.

"Don't you know it?" Elias asked as he looked up at her with childish curiosity.

"I don't know - maybe?" Brenna balked as she looked at the Gate. She reached out to touch the tip of one of the thorns and yelped at the instant pain she felt that shot up her arm. Jerking back was just a reflex, as well as cradling her arm. She turned her hand over to look at the drop of blood that was rising from the prick.

"Let me see!" Gavrill ordered as he reached for her hand. Brenna offered her hand to him and continued to stare at the Gate while the satyr fussed over her injury.

Her eyes squinted and stared into its depths. There were buds hidden behind the thorns. A song sprang unbidden to her lips and she found herself quietly singing the words to "The Last Rose of Summer." Unexpectedly, some of the buds closer to the front of the Gate began to open slowly.

Elias, who had also been watching the Gate warily, exclaimed, "It's working!"

Brenna stopped singing and gasped at the partially opened flowers. When she stopped singing, the buds stopped opening and seemed to start closing back up again.

"Keep singing!" Elias instructed excitedly as he pranced from one hoof to the other.

Brenna felt a little silly doing so. She wasn't the singer like Sarah. Brenna was the musician. She played along - she fit in the background. Sure she had solos as an instrumentalist, but - that was different!

At the insistent and excited urging of the two satyr children, Brenna began singing. The flowers began blooming again. Slowly, the morning glories opened and the thorns retracted into the Bridge walls. Brenna didn't stop singing until the Gate had completely cleared of the thorns and the flowers were blooming all around the Gate's entrance.

Brenna led the way through the Gate, her eyes widening at the sight before her. All she could say was an awed, "Wow!"

Before her stretched a lake with ripples ruffling the otherwise placid expanse of water. Large bubbles hovered in the air - not like soap, but bubbles of water. Suspended in the air was a large crater of earth with all kinds of vegetation growing around it and a glorious castle that stretched upwards from the crater's surface. From what would have been the considered the drawbridge flowed a huge waterfall which tumbled down to the lake below and churned the water into a frothy frenzy.

The twining branches and roots that made up the Bridge formed a large dome that opened up at the very top to reveal a blue sky. Sunlight poured into the area and made the water dazzle like gems.

"How do we get to the castle?" Elias asked after a time of stunned silence. His whispered question tugged on Brenna's conscience, and she too looked around for a path or bridge that might take them to the castle. Even a stairway that would take them from the lake's edge to the floating castle above them.

"I think someone said something about walking on the water," Gavrill answered hesitantly as he poked a hoof into the water. It did not seem solid enough for such a feat.

"There must be _some_ way to get to the castle," Brenna argued as she searched the water. She paced the edge of the lake, determined to make it across. Her blue gaze spied something that seemed distorted beneath the ever rippling water and she quickly walked toward it. Kneeling she reached a hand out and pressed into the water. To her surprise, her hand rested on a smooth paving stone.

"Gavrill! Elias!" She called to the two satyrs and stood. The pair rushed to her as she took her first step onto the paving stone. Grinning back at them, she said, "Follow me!" Brenna glanced back at the stones and began her careful trek across the lake. She followed the stones and wondered only briefly how deep the lake was and what would happen should you fall off the path. Every once in a while, she glance back at the boys to make sure they were safe. When she wasn't watching the path or the boys, her gaze would dart toward the castle and she would wonder if _he_ was waiting for her, knew that she was coming. How would she find Sarah?

Despite the questions and fears, Brenna steeled herself for the task ahead. She _would_ find Sarah, and they _would_ get out of here.

~*T*~*G*~

Yaron was feeling discouraged. How were they going to find Brenna? He was certain the minotaur had fallen to its death - reports had been brought to him by some Gatekeepers of that very thing. However, no one seemed to know whether Brenna had fallen as well, or if she was still on the Bridge. Not for the first time did he want to growl in frustration. His father's troll blood was beginning to cloud his better fae judgment.

Not for the first time did he silently wish - to himself - that Brenna's parents had never taken the flute away from her. Had never taken her away from the Gate. Had made her forget. Had never poisoned her mind with "medicines" that would "help" her. Plur was most likely drugged into oblivion by now.

The nagging words Sarah had spoken returned. Could he find her without the flute? He had never tried before. What other ways were there to find her? If she had a piece of the Bridge in her possession or a plant or -

Yaron's eyes widened. The water!

"Namin!" He barked at the troll, who jumped in fright at the king's sudden outburst. "Has Brenna taken a drink of th' water any time since she entered th' Bridge?"

The troll shook his head silently, eyes wide.

"But is it possible she could have?" Yaron demanded. "Did ye tell her nae tae?"

"N-no, sire."

Sarah frowned. "Why? Will it hurt her?"

Yaron grinned. "Nae, but if she has, we may be able tae fin' 'er." He closed his eyes and used his magic to search for Brenna. All living things on the Bridge entered his senses. Anything that had ingested plant life or water hovered on his consciousness. He pushed past the forms of Sarah and Namin and with his magic propelled his search further.

Deeper into the Bridge, his magic guided him. The further away he went, the thinner his abilities stretched, but she was nowhere on the outskirts of the Troll Bridge's domain. Puzzled, he began pulling back. Where was she if not lost in the depths? Fearfully, he began his search anew. Hoping against all hope, he sent his search toward the castle. Had she somehow managed to make her way without a Guide to the castle? If she had, that would surely be enough proof that _she_ was Plur born again.

His senses reached the Gate to the castle. The flowers were in bloom and pulsing with the tune written to open it. He saw three creatures at the lake's edge. What appeared to be satyrs, which caused him some alarm, and Brenna!

Yaron pulled back into himself with a snap and a gasp. "She's reached th' lake!"

"Is she all right?" Sarah demanded eagerly.

"We will fin' out," Yaron declared, not wanting to alarm anyone of the possibility that the satyrs with her could be dangerous, or the fact that he had sensed the poison from the thorns in her veins. They had a short while before she collapsed, and he desperately hoped she would not be anywhere near the water's edge when that happened.

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna winced as her armed throbbed at her side. It hurt badly and she was beginning to have a headache. She didn't say anything to the boys. She didn't want to worry them. "Just - a little further!" She forced out in a cheerful tone. Brenna winced again. She sounded like she was getting a cold.

Suddenly, her legs seemed to give out beneath her and she crumpled to her knees with a pained gasp. Brenna landed on the paved stones and tried to support herself on her arms, but her right arm screamed in agony at the weight. With a moan, she leaned toward her left arm, and waited for the dizzy spell to pass.

"Brenna!" Gavrill hurried to her, but could not come to her side to help her up since the path was too narrow for more than one person at a time.

"I'm fine, just tired," Brenna lied. Shakily, she stood to her feet and felt herself sway. "I'll be fine," she reassured. Her lips and mouth felt so dry. Maybe another sip of water? Or what if that was what making her sick? Brenna eyed the lake water suspiciously. "Let's keep going," she suggested worriedly.

From behind them, she heard a shout. "Brenna!"

"Sarah?!" Brenna turned suddenly toward the voice of her friend and realized that moving so quickly had been a mistake. Everything swam in her vision and she could feel herself falling backwards. Reaching out a hand - almost as if in slow motion - she tried to grab for something - anything - to keep herself from falling.

A masculine voice shouted at her - fear in his voice.

Cold water enveloped her, shocking her back to a semi-alert state. She stared up at the water's surface and the two figures hovering over the water from the safety of the pathway. Brenna kicked her legs, trying to propel herself upwards. Without warning, a current caught at her and began pulling her away from the pathway, away from the surface, away from air!

Brenna panicked and tried to desperately make it to the surface. If only she could make it to the surface! Her headache became worse. She felt increasingly dizzy. Was she losing oxygen too fast? Her lungs were burning. She needed air! Brenna tried to break free of the current's grip one last time, before her limbs gave up on her and refused to obey her brain's frantic instructions.

Brenna felt her eyes sting with tears that could not be shed below the water. She was about to give up completely, when someone dove into the water near her. As darkness began to invite her to open her mouth and faint, a dark haired man with strange mismatching eyes that held such a determined look that she forgot the red mask that covered his face.

His arms wrapped around her waist, and then -

She knew nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Dundundun! Cliff-hanger! Hanging by a cliff! And that's why he's called Cliff-hanger! (If you know what that's from, brownie points are yours) <strong>

**Again, I apologize for the extremely looooooong wait, folks. School got in the way - I had a play I was directing. Now I've got wedding planning and my pre-student teaching portfolio review coming up. =/ Updates will happen (I hope) but will be sporadic at best.**

**Reviews, please! =D I promise, we'll be getting back to Jareth soon. We're sorta not half-way yet. Although, if you've been reading Lost and the Lonely, we're half-way done! =D I'm going to try to finish up both these Labyrinth fics before I move on to another project. :)**

**But yes, review! I love to read them. :)**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Wish

"Brenna? You awake?"

The girl in question groaned and lifted a hand to her throbbing head, only to have her arm begin to throb painfully as well. "What?"

"Oh, Brenna! I was so worried!" The speaker settled on the edge of the bed, causing it to dip on the one side.

Brenna cautiously opened her eyes, but winced due to the light. "Sarah? Did we go drinking or something? I had the weirdest dream and now my head hurts. Did I hit my hand?"

Silence met Brenna's questions. Worried, the ginger-haired girl turned her head toward the side of the bed she assumed Sarah was sitting on. "Sarah? What happened?"

"You - you don't remember where we are?"

Panic seized the young woman then. Not caring that the light hurt her eyes and head, she opened her eyes to look around. It was too nice to be a hospital -

Brenna felt dizzy as she paled. "Troll Bridge," she murmured.

Sarah came into view and she had a relieved smile on her face. "Yeah."

"Are we," Brenna gulped, "are we prisoners?"

Sarah's smile disappeared, and she glanced uneasily toward the door. Brenna followed her friend's gaze, but didn't see anyone there. "Not - exactly."

"Why did _he_ take you?" Brenna demanded as she struggled to sit up. "We have to get out of here. I don't know what's going on, but we can't stay!"

"Brenna, please calm down," Sarah soothed and placed a restraining hand on her friend's shoulder. "We're not in danger - exactly. We're - guests."

"What?!"

"Hear me out," the brunette pleaded. "_They_ need our help." Sarah hastily explained what she had learned from Yaron and Delphi. The fact that they were really reborn faes who had relived their tale in some manner numerous times but always died before they could be reunited with their loves - Jareth and Yaron. She explained that their souls or spirits had escaped to the Aboveground in the hopes of returning through the Bridge and reuniting in another way - to fight back against whatever it was that was keeping them apart.

"Our time is running out," Sarah explained, "and so is theirs. We've been through this so many times that our fae halves are weakening to the point they'll disappear. I don't know if we'll get to do this again. Ja- the Goblin King has forgotten who I am - who I _really_ am. He didn't recognize me as easily as Yaron remembered you. We need your help to get the Goblin King to remember me. He's the last one to remember. He's already giving up - if he doesn't wake up then he'll lose the Labyrinth. He may even die. You'll help, right?"

Brenna stared at Sarah in silence. She absorbed the information and after some time shook her head.

"I can't believe this," she murmured. "I've either gone off the deep end or you're just incredibly cruel."

"What?" Sarah reeled back in shock at her friend's words.

"Really, Sarah?" Brenna demanded angrily. "We're some fairy princesses reborn? Destined to marry princes? Really?! How stupid do you think I am?"

"Brenna -"

"I mean," the red-head continued her rant, "I thought this was real since I found the flute again and Namin came back - this all felt so real. Now -" Her shoulders slumped dejectedly. "I'll have to go back to my psychologist - begin those meds all over again."

"No!" Sarah grabbed Brenna's hands and searched her friend's face desperately. "Brenna, this is _real_! We really are Underground. The Goblin and Troll Kings are real. I've seen our past selves. You have to believe me!"

Brenna snatched her hands away and shook her head. "There's no such thing as -"

"Silence!" The pair cringed and looked at the door.

Delphi stood there, her usually placid face wrinkled in a scowl as she stared intently at Brenna. "Do not breathe the words you were about to say," she ordered as she slowly glided over the floor to the unoccupied side of the bed. "Every admission such as the one you were about to make kills or harms another one of your people. I would not wonder if that is the reason your fae self has suffered so over the years."

"Delphi," Sarah plead, "she doesn't believe me. We need to have her look in the water thing -"

"No," Delphi declared sadly, her face reverting to its usual calm expression. "It will not work for her."

"Why not?" Sarah demanded, oblivious to her friend's discomfort and shock.

"You have always been close to the reality of who you are," the oracle explained gently. "You always believed. Brenna has become weakened through disbelief and the things her mortal families call medicine. She -"

"Stop!" Brenna insisted. "Just stop all of this you two. I don't want to hear anymore."

Delphi looked at the other girl and reached out a hand to brush it across Brenna's forehead. Brenna recoiled from the cool touch, but before she realized it, was drifting into sleep again.

"What did you do?" Sarah demanded.

"If we had continued," the oracle explained as she helped settle Brenna back against the pillows, "she would have become more hysterical."

"She doesnae remember," Yaron spoke from the shadows of the door. He had been standing there the whole time and each look of disbelief and confusion that crossed Brenna's face had hurt him greatly. He wanted nothing more than to join Sarah in the attempt to convince Brenna of who she really was and tell her of his love for her.

"No," Delphi acknowledged. "She may not ever remember who she once was."

"Will she remember me?" Yaron asked quietly, almost pleading to know.

"Perhaps," the oracle answered evasively.

"What now?" Sarah asked wearily. "We need her help. How can she help us if she doesn't remember or believe?"

"She must go to the Goblin City - against her will," Delphi declared as she looked steadfastly ahead of her.

"What?!" "Whit?" Sarah and Yaron shouted in unison.

"You can't send her there alone," Sarah protested.

"Aye!" Yaron answered angrily. "It's radge thaur wi' th' way th' Labyrinth is, an' ma coosin -"

He trailed off and began grumbling. Sarah stared at him in confusion, unsure of what all he had said since he had slipped into his accent.

Delphi waved a hand to dismiss both adults' words. "I must send her alone. She will be safe at the castle with the Goblin King. No harm will come to her from him or his subjects."

"Whit can she possibly dae there tae remin' him? Or remember anythin' herself?" Yaron questioned irritably.

"That," Delphi answered, "is up to The Goblin King and Brenna. Their former selves are dormant and need each other to reawaken."

Yaron's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he remained silent.

"If we send her there," Sarah interrupted, "and I do mean _if_, how are we sending her?"

"I thought the Princess of the Goblins would know the answer to _that_," Delphi chided as she turned to look at Sarah thoughtfully. "She must be wished away."

"No!" Sarah refused. "I won't wish her away!"

"I did not mean _you_ must do so, Sarah," Delphi comforted.

"Then who?"

Delphi turned to the bed and with a wave of her hand, Brenna was gone. The startled and agonized protests from Sarah and Yaron were cut short when Delphi answered solemnly, "Her mortal family must wish her away. Only then will she believe what she has been shutting out of her heart and mind for so long."

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna moaned and rolled over only to hiss in pain. She sat up faster than she had anticipated and stared with confusion at her bandaged hand. Her head swam and she shook it to clear the blurry haze. Where was she now? Last she remembered she was -

A gasp escaped her as she looked around in panic at the room she was now in. She wasn't at the castle she had seen Sarah in. She wasn't even at the house the girls were watching for Sarah's aunt and uncle. Not at the dorm either.

Brenna's thoughts slowed enough for her to recognize that she was home - her parents' home. In her bedroom. Brenna's confusion ratcheted up again.

Tossing the sheets off her legs, she stood - albeit a bit wobbly. Brenna looked down to see her bedraggled pajamas instead of the jeans, socks, sneakers, and shirt she had muddied and soaked through - in her dream.

She frowned in confusion. Where were those clothes anyway? Brenna looked around the room once more for any signs of goblins or trolls. What had happened? One moment she was sitting with Sarah and listening to that Delphi lady when -

Brenna bolted from her room.

"Mom?" She called in a panic. "Mom? Dad?"

"What is it, sweetie?" Her mother appeared at the base of the stairs. Brenna stood at the top of the stairs and felt herself gasping for breath.

"When did I get here?" She asked. "How long have I been here?"

Brenna's mother, a woman in her late forties with curly auburn hair that was cropped to a fluffy chin-length style, looked up at her daughter with concern in her blue eyes. "What do you mean 'when' and 'how long'? You arrived last night saying Sarah was having another friend over for a few days and you needed quiet for your new music project." A suspicious look entered her mother's eyes. "Are you all right, Brenna? Do you need to visit Doctor Lori?"

"No!" Brenna interjected with a nervous laugh. "No, I'm fine. I just - um - rough night with the storm and - I'm fine." She motioned vaguely over her shoulder. "I'm going to - ah - get dressed."

"Don't forget," her mother called after her daughter, "your grandfather is coming by today for lunch."

Brenna cringed and felt herself wilt. "Okay," she answered as upbeat as she could muster.

"Have something prepared to play for him," her mother added. "You know how he loves to hear you play."

"Right," the young woman grumbled as she shut the door to her bedroom.

She hastily dressed in khaki pants and a flowy, green shirt. Normally, Brenna would forgo wearing shoes in the house - or jewelry for that matter, but her grandpa was very strict on always looking professional. She slipped into a pair of brown heels and retrieved heart-shaped earrings with a light green stone in the center of each. A heart-shaped necklace that belonged to one of her grandmothers complimented the earrings and gave the outfit a bit of whimsy because of the colorful butterflies painted onto the carved ivory. Her hair went up into a bun, and she hoped that the unruly curls wouldn't stick out on her over the course of the afternoon. Brenna sighed as she recalled her grandfather's usual complaints about her hair.

The doorbell rang.

Brenna glanced at the silver digital clock on her bedside table and cringed. He was early - or she had slept in - either way, she did not feel prepared for this encounter. So much for much needed quiet for that music project. Funny, she couldn't remember what the project was for.

Brenna descended the stairs as her mother greeted the elderly man. Brenna stood back and observed the man whom she feared and respected. He was a few inches taller than her. He was once a lean man, but recently his stomach had begun to protrude. His wide, thick glasses made his eyes seem larger, and the blue color of his irises always made her shiver. He always looked like he was judging her. His once blond hair was turning white. When he had a full head of hair, it had been thick. His hair started falling out on the top of his head, so he had grown out the side so he could comb it over the bald spot. Brenna had laughed once when she was very small at his hair because the wind had blown it out of place. She never laughed at him ever again after that!

"Stop fussing, Martha," Brenna's grandfather grumbled to her mother. He looked up at Brenna, who smiled at him hopefully. He huffed and shrugged out of the red sweater he wore. "So, I see you came to visit."

"I have a project for class that I wanted to work on someplace where it was quiet," Brenna offered, even though part of her felt that this information wasn't correct.

Her grandfather grunted and followed the pair into the dining room. "Where's Mitch?" Her grandfather asked her mother.

"On a business trip for the weekend," Martha explained apologetically.

"He travels too much," Brenna's grandfather declared as he sat. "What are we eating?"

"Corned beef and cabbage!" Martha announced cheerfully as she too sat down. Brenna took her seat between them and wished this day was over.

"Hopefully it isn't dry like your mother's," the old man groused. The food was served and eaten in silence. Brenna hated the oppressive silence, but her grandfather hated talking during the meal. The only sound that was ever allowed was the radio if a quiet CD was in the player. Always classical music of course. He couldn't abide any of the newer musicians.

Brenna cleared the table while her mother and grandfather had tea and cookies. She hoped she wouldn't be asked to play. She had a very bad feeling about playing for her grandfather today.

"Brenna!" Her mother called. "Play us something on one of your instruments."

She set aside the dishes she had been rinsing and dried her hands on a towel. "What would you like me to play?" the young woman asked as she made her way to the living room where most if not all of her instruments resided.

Her grandfather stood up from the table and walked after her. Brenna stopped in her tracks when she saw a particular instrument resting on the mantel of the fireplace. Her breathing became ragged as memories returned from the night before. Or were they dreams?

No one seemed to notice her distress. Her mother and grandfather sat on the couch and waited for her to pick something. Brenna reached for the flute, as if hypnotized. Without even thinking about it, she started playing an old, familiar tune. She knew she shouldn't be playing this particular song. She knew both her mother and grandfather would recognize the instrument. They would throw a fit, and she would end up going to Dr. Lori.

"Brenna!" Martha was already protesting, but the young woman couldn't stop playing. "Brenna, where did you find that?"

"That thing," her grandfather sneered. "That's the flute she said she got from some goblin or whatever."

The song came to a close, and finally Brenna could lower the instrument from her lips.

"Your daughter and her fairy stories," he continued to complain, his voice getting angrier and louder. "What will she amount to if all she does is have her head in the clouds?"

"Oh, Brenna," Martha sighed wearily. She stood and walked to the kitchen.

"Mom!" Brenna called after the retreating woman. "Please, I don't need to see Dr. Lori! It was just a song!"

"If you ask me," her grandfather was saying, "you should have sent her to that facility where they would have rid her of this nonsense long ago!"

Anger boiled up inside the red-headed girl. It had been a beautiful song on a beautiful instrument. All he could focus on was her "problems"! Turning to her grandfather she hissed, "Shut up, Grandpa Verne!"

"Don't you talk to me that way," he ordered furiously. "Who do you think paid for all those doctor's appointments and music lessons? You don't know how much I've suffered because of you!"

"No one asked you for either of those things!" Brenna retorted. "The only thing I ever asked for was for you to appreciate what I could do! What about me do you hate so much? Why can't you love me as much as you love Hannah or Maddie or Kathy? I'm the only one in the entire family that still plays any of the instruments you ever paid for!"

Verne scoffed. "Why would I love the crazy grandchild? You're nothing but a burden on your parents and on me! I wish," he stood as he spoke, "I wish your goblins would take you away!"

The lights went out.

Clutching to her flute, Brenna felt herself being knocked off her feet and land on top of something bumpy - or a group of someone's. She heard shouts and cartoonish laughter. It felt like she was moving, but she wasn't sure where. She couldn't even shout.

A light shown somewhere ahead of her. Little, dirty faces were illuminated by the light they were approaching. Brenna's eyes widened in fear as she stared at the creatures. They looked somewhat similar to Namin - but they certainly _weren't_ Namin.

The creatures holding her burst through the portal of light and fell into a heap in a large room. Brenna was unceremoniously dumped into a shallow pit in the center of the room. Thankfully this part of the room was cushioned with pillows and blankets. Brenna stared curiously at an odd stuffed bear that rested among the pillows.

She propped herself up on all fours. Looking around the room, she saw that the other creatures were staring back at her.

"What is it?" Asked one.

"Did we grab the runner by mistake?" asked a fat creature.

The group grumbled and speculated about who or what she was. Brenna felt herself hyperventilating. Not again! She couldn't be here again! No, she must be having a psychotic episode. That must be it!

"Well," a man's tenor voice spoke from behind her. Brenna whirled around as best she could in her kneeling position. A man with dirty, blond hair stood on a dais, his fists resting on his hips. Black, tight pants hugged his legs and his height was accented by the long boots he wore. A white shirt, open at the chest, flowed around his torso in a Renaissance-style. His only adornment was a crescent-shaped pendant hanging from a leather cord.

His eyes - a strange mismatched pair - stared down at her coldly. In an equally cold, mocking tone he asked, "What do we have here?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: As I've said in the other chapters I've updated for various stories, I apologize for the long delay. Stuff happened in life that was both wonderful and unavoidable. Here is a chapter, and I hope to update every once in a while. Thank you all for your patience and continued support!<strong>

_She doesnae remember – She doesn't remember._

_Whit? – What?_

_Aye! It's radge thaur wi' th' way th' Labyrinth is, an' ma coosin – Yes! It's dangerous there with the way the Labyrith is, and my cousin –_

_Whit can she possibly dae there tae remin' him? Or remember anythin' herself? – What can she possibly do there to remind him? Or remember anything herself?_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: What to Do

Brenna continued to stare at the strange man from her position on all fours. He stepped down the few steps and circled the pit in which she sat. With some thought to how she looked, the young woman scrambled to her feet. She kept repeating to herself that this was all a dream. None of this was real. He wasn't real.

"Well?" He questioned once more. "What are you? I don't believe I have ever had a grown woman wished away before." The man frowned in thought - something was vaguely familiar about this woman.

"I - I'm -" she stammered, as she tried to regain her wits. "I'm - Brenna."

Jareth scowled at her as he examined her from head to foot. His gaze lingered on the stick she held in her hands. With deft reflexes, he snatched it from her fingers and held it gently in his gloved hands. She tried to protest, but the Goblin King ignored her.

The wood - the make of this flute was exactly like -

His mismatched gaze hardened and he glared at the woman. She recoiled from his stare.

"Where did you get this?" Jareth hissed.

"I don't remember," she answered a twinge of pain beginning to form behind her eyes. Brenna bit her lip as she suppressed a whimper.

"I will ask you again, or I will take the information myself," he stated before taking her upper arm and yanking her outside of the play pen for children. "Where. Did. You. Get. This?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, she repeated. "I don't remember!"

Jareth released her harshly, almost pushing her as he did. Brenna stumbled back, her arms pin wheeling in her attempt to stay upright. Her heel met open air and she fell backwards into the cushioned pit. The back of her head made contact with stone and she saw stars before blacking out again.

He motioned to his goblins, who had never seen their ruler behave so roughly to a wished away being - not even a runner had been so roughly handled by their king! "Take her to a dungeon and leave her there."

The goblins shifted silently, looking from one to the other with concerned looks on their faces. Jareth bristled at their hesitancy and barked, "Now!"

Several goblins jumped and hurried to take Brenna. They lifted her above their heads and scurried off without a sound. Jareth stormed over to the large window that looked down over the city and the Labyrinth beyond it. His eyes stared icily at the flute in his hands.

While he could take the memories from the object itself, Jareth decided to take them from the girl instead. With a flick of his wrist, a crystal formed in his fingertips. He stared into its center and waited for the magic and his will to show him what he wanted to know.

_A girl stood before a man in a mask, looking up at him with wonder and admiration. He held out the flute to her. She wrapped her tiny fingers around the instrument and clutched it lovingly and protectively to her chest._

_A flash showed Brenna - or a woman who looked very much like her - sitting on a garden bench beside the man who looked very similar to the masked man, but was not wearing the piece now. They were smiling and whispering - what Jareth wasn't sure. The man produced the flute from a pocket within his coat and offered it to her. She accepted the instrument with a shy smile. The man - so much like his cousin Yaron - produced another flute and the pair joined into a lilting duet._

Jareth shook his head and dismissed the ball in his hands. He pressed a gloved hand to his forehead to stem the oncoming headache. What had he seen? Both accounts he knew were true and real for they were part of Brenna's subconscious, but they were also very different from each other. The one - he could tell took place in the woman's life. The other - he could not be sure.

He turned and strode out of the throne room. This woman needed further investigation.

~*T*~*G*~

When Brenna woke, she felt incredibly sore. Her head hurt, her back hurt - she was sure that if she moved, she would hurt. Despite her pain, she tried to sit up and look around.

She wasn't in her bed at home or in her bed at Sarah's relatives' house. She wasn't in the lovely room at the Troll King's castle, and she wasn't in the room with the goblins and strange looking man. Brenna's eyesight adjusted to the darkness of the room and when she looked at the stone walls, straw-strewn floors, wooden door, and the window that was no bigger than a sliver in the wall - Brenna was sure she was in something like a dungeon. It certainly looked like a movie's rendition of a castle dungeon. Thankfully there weren't any rats or skeletons hanging from chains.

The wooden door swung open, letting light from the well-lit hallway blind her. Brenna lifted her hand, seeing it bandaged like it had been when she woke up back at home. She had put the thought out of her head then, but now she was sure the events that had happened were real.

"Well, he's really done it this time," a gruff voice complained.

Wincing and blinking, Brenna lowered her hand to see a short man with white hair sticking out from underneath and odd looking cap staring at her. His bushy eyebrows were dipped into a frown over large eyes. He hobbled over to where she half-sat, half-lay on the straw covered floor.

"Come on," he ordered with a wave of his arms. "Get up!"

"Where are we going?" She asked timidly, not attempting to stand because she didn't want to hurt anymore.

"To find you a better room," the man answered before snorting. "Not that there are many options since Jareth stopped havin' the place cleaned!"

Brenna didn't complain about the idea of leaving the dungeon. She didn't want to stay here. Bracing herself against the wall, she rose to her feet. Dizziness overwhelmed her, so she stayed leaning against the wall until the world returned to a stable position in front of her eyes. She glanced briefly at the man that didn't come up past her waist. His face was contorted into concern now, but she wouldn't admit to him that something was amiss.

"Can't I just leave?" She asked meekly.

"'Fraid not," he answered before shuffling slowly to the door. Brenna dragged her feet as she followed, and held a hand out in case she needed to catch herself and prevent herself from falling. "Once you're wished away and in the center of the Labyrinth, there's no way out again." He looked up at her. "Unless you think whoever wished you away is gonna try to get you back."

Brenna thought of her grandfather and winced. "I'm pretty sure it's safe to say they won't."

"Then you have to stay," the dwarf replied with a sad shrug and shake of his head.

She shook her head as a thought came to her. "Sarah will come for me."

They had made it to the door by now, but the dwarf stopped so abruptly, she nearly fell over him. Brenna watched curiously as the dwarf turned to stare at her open-mouthed. He was making an odd squeaking noise that was a bit alarming and amusing.

"What?" he asked with an audible gulp, "What did you say?"

"My friend, Sarah," Brenna repeated. "She'll come for me." A frown crossed her features. "Although, I'm not sure how I got back home from the Troll Bridge - I hope Sarah was sent home too." She ran a hand through her hair and hissed as she found the lump on the back of her head from her fall. "I can't even remember what happened after I fell in the lake beneath the castle."

The dwarf began ringing his hands and mumbling something under his breath. Brenna knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do you - know Sarah?" A thought came to her. "Are you Hoggle?"

He lurched and looked at her in surprise. "How'd you know my name?"

"Sarah told me her story," Brenna explained. "She told me about the Labyrinth when she found out I'd been on the Troll Bridge."

"You've been where?" Hoggle exclaimed in shock.

"She's there too - or at least - she was," Brenna added. "I went back to rescue her from the Troll King. I don't know if I succeeded, but I must have," she hastened to reassure the dwarf when he paled. "Because I was home again."

"So how did you end up here?" He asked quietly.

Brenna shrugged. "My grandpa wished me away. I don't know I - I played a song on a flute that I got from the Troll King. No one believed me when I was growing up and said I got the flute and my musical talent from him."

Hoggle's eyes narrowed in thought. Something was up, and he didn't like it. Sarah was Underground and Jareth didn't know it. Another girl who had been to the Underground was here. The dwarf wasn't certain, but he had a feeling Delphi had been meddling again.

"Don't breathe a word of this to anyone," he instructed. "Not even Jareth! Right?"

"Why?"

Hoggle looked around furtively, hoping the Goblin King wasn't lurking about or listening in on their conversation. It would be just like Jareth to do so too. "He's mad at Sarah - and if he knew or supposed you were here because of her - it wouldn't end well for either of you."

"But Sarah didn't send me!" Brenna protested.

"He'd think she did," Hoggle countered. "Just keep everythin' to yourself! Come on," he abruptly cut the discussion off. "Let's find a place for you to stay."

~*T*~*G*~

Jareth pulled another book of a shelf and blew the dust off the cover. He made a face and struggled not to cough. When had his maids up and left? How could they have let his castle fall into such disarray?

He grumbled as he returned to the window ledge - one of the few places that was not covered in dust or shredded beyond belief. Jareth sat down and began flipping through the pages. He couldn't remember when the last time was that a grown woman had been wished away. Children were the only beings wished away - that had been the law of the Labyrinth. Had the law been changed since Jareth's lack of concern for his kingdom? Since Sarah had shattered him and his kingdom?

There was the tale of one of his ancestors who offered a jeweled cup to any knight who asked for it - in the times of old when faes and mortals still communed as friends. After the cup was stolen from Jareth's predecessor, the goblins refused to deal with men. Women and children became their focus - for good or ill. Those who followed the false Goblin King had caused the death of many while Jareth's people had tried to stop such atrocious murders like the one performed by the Erlking's Goblin Horse.

Or the time a mortal girl was almost whisked away to marry a goblin, but she outsmarted the goblin's whole family. Jareth peered at the picture of the girl in her fine dress that she had insisted the goblins find in order to delay them until the morning light. It looked so much like her - like the dress he had spun from moon and starlight for that magnificent ball.

Jareth quickly turned the page with a huff and hoped to find another instance beside _that_ one. That had been long before the law that goblins only deal with children.

No, the final reason that had halted all dealings with mortals had come at the hands of a woman named Alida. She had discovered how to overpower the magic of goblins and the Stoning happened. Thousands of goblins had been turned to stone because of one woman and a village-full of men. The ancient Goblin King of that time had decided mortal men and women too dangerous.

The only way Seelie's could receive children from mortals now were the wished away children. That had been his people's purpose. Who would think to wish away a child to something nice and lovely like a faerie? No, mortals who hated their offspring only wished their children away to something they thought nasty and horrible.

The only dealings he could find with grownups since the Stoning were from accounts of the Goblin Market and two sisters. Jareth skimmed over the words. If he remembered correctly, there was a picture of the sisters on the next page -

It had been torn out.

Jareth growled in frustration and slammed the book shut, the pages emitted another cloud of dust that settled in his hair and on his clothes. The Goblin King was becoming increasingly irritated with the state of his castle. He had a job to do with this wished away woman, and he couldn't perform his duties with his home in shambles!

Jareth stormed out of his large study and wandered the halls of his castle, contemplating what must be done. He could not report to the Seelie Court that he had brought an adult mortal to the Underground - as a wished away being she had the right to stay, but he knew he had enemies there that wanted to see him replaced. After losing a child to a Runner, many thought him incapable of carrying out his duties as Goblin King anymore. No child had been returned before _she_ came.

He could keep her here - never tell anyone she had been wished away. But if she had met Yaron and been to the Troll Bridge - how could he keep his cousin from knowing she was in the Underground? Surely Yaron would find out eventually.

Jareth puzzled over this. He hadn't seen his cousin for quite some time. What had Yaron been up to? Why had trolls been moving so often between the Labyrinth and the Bridge?

Returning to the throne room, the Goblin King noticed that his courtiers had left again. Was everyone out to disobey him these days?! First his maids up and disappeared, now his courtiers! When had he become so lenient?

Scowling, Jareth returned his attention to his cousin. "Yaron," he spoke clearly and forcefully, "I must speak with you."

"Aye, coosin?"

Jareth turned to see his masked cousin sitting on Jareth's throne. Yaron had his head tilted to the side, resting on a fisted hand. The lighter of the pair scowled at his dark cousin. "You're in my seat."

"You werenae usin' it," Yaron quipped as he sat up and leaned forward. "Whit can Ah dae fur ye, Jareth?"

Without preamble, Jareth said, "I have received reports that your trolls have been entering my boarders frequently these past several days. Why is that?"

The Troll King slumped back into the throne and stared for a long time at his cousin. Jareth met the gaze that always unnerved him for some reason - perhaps it was the mask. Yaron finally took a breath to speak. "Ye cannae deny 'at th' Labyrinth has bin movin' unchecked fur some time, Jareth." He motioned a pale hand toward the window, as he said, "Mah subjects hae bin guidin' several ay yer ain fowk frae harm's way when their homes ur eaten by th' Labyrinth."

The Goblin King tensed at the accusation that he wasn't in control of his realm, but when he tried to reach out with his magic in that moment to communicate with the Labyrinth, all he received was a growl from the land.

Bristling, he snapped, "No one asked you to move my people! They could have come here to the city for protection!"

Yaron scoffed. "Hae ye seen yer city, Jareth? Better yit, yer Labyrinth?" The Troll King stood from the throne and walked briskly over to the window. Pointing an accusatory finger at the Goblin King he said, "Yoo're in a famine an' drooght! Yoor fowk woods hae tae travel ben th' Labyrinth tae gie haur, an' that's tay radge e'en fur yer gardeners!

"Aam sayin' thes coz we're friends, Jareth," Yaron continued as he slowly approached Jareth. "Until ye gie yerself together an' start actin' loch a kin', Ah will continue tae hae mah trolls help yer fowk." As the Troll King began fading before Jareth's eyes, he said, "Guid day, coosin."

Jareth remained where he stood, staring at the floor as if his gaze would demolish the floor - as if the floor had been the one to offend him. To the empty room, he hissed, "I am in complete control!"

He swept up the stairs hidden to the left of his throne. Soon his angered wanderings had him lost in the ups and downs of his room made of stairs, corridors, and platforms. As he fumed over the state of things, the fact that Jareth had forgotten to ask Yaron about Brenna's connection to the Troll King went completely out of Jareth's mind.

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna looked around the room to which Hoggle had brought her. There were cobwebs hanging in the corners and trapping dust to the ceilings and walls. The furniture was equally dusty and dirty - leaves had blown in through an open window. Glass panes were smudged.

The dwarf had gone off in search of food for the woman. She had also asked if there was anything she could take for the pain she still felt all over. Hoggle had reassured that he would try to find that too.

Brenna wandered further into the room toward a corner of the room where she saw what looked like a fountain. The little pool was green and didn't look clean at all. She guessed this was supposed to be where she bathed - but Brenna didn't think she could allow herself to dip into the water - even if it were clean - without some kind of wall to hide behind.

Her eyes swept over the room once more, but her inspection was halted by a knock on the door. Brenna hastened to the entrance to the bedroom and opened the door. Her gaze was lowered to where she knew Hoggle would be, but instead of seeing a dwarf, she saw the boots that belonged to the Goblin King.

Her head rose to stare in wide-eyed bewilderment at the man who was glaring back at her. "Here you are," he said as he swept into the room. "I thought I'd find you in the dungeons, but I guess my goblins misunderstood. Or," he continued as he turned to look at her, "you are an escape artist."

"I let her out," a gruff voice spoke up, alerting the pair to Hoggle's presence. Overwhelmed with a tray of food, the dwarf didn't even bother to shut the door behind him. He hobbled over to a table with dust and cobwebs hanging off what might have been a silver candlestick. Hoggle lifted the tray over his head and stood on his toes in order to settle the tray onto the tabletop.

"What made you think," Jareth hissed, "that you had any right to do so?"

Hoggle turned around and retorted, "Because, she's the wished away child, and you don't usually put them in the dungeon!"

"She is not a child!"

"Compared to me and you, she might as well be!"

"Um," Brenna spoke up quietly, "if it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay the dungeon. At least that was cleaner than this room."

Jareth glared at her while Hoggle made motions with his hands that she be quiet. "If it bothers you so much," the king retorted angrily, "then _you_ clean it!" He paused and rested a hand on his chin. "Yes," he said slowly. "That would be the best thing to do with you."

"Excuse me?" she asked warily.

"You will clean," he answered with finality. "Since my maids have gone missing, you will clean up this mess as well as the entire castle!"

Brenna's eyes widened. "What!? But this place is huge! I'm not Cinderella!"

Jareth frowned in confusion, unsure of who or what she was talking about. Waving her protests off, he said, "Well until I have a better plan of what to do with you - since you're too old to be adopted - you'll just have to make due." Without another look back at the now protesting young woman and dwarf, the Goblin King left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Hoggle sighed and groaned. "Well," he muttered, "it coulda been worse."

"How?" Brenna demanded. "How could it possibly be worse?"

"At least he didn't drop you in an oubliette - or in the Bog of Eternal Stench."

These comments elicited a small smile from the woman. "Well, if I know you from what Sarah told me, you wouldn't have let me stay in either of those places."

"Damn right," the dwarf responded before motioning to the food. "Eat up! I'll find a way to fix this mess. Maybe I can convince some of the goblin maids to come back to help. Most of 'em have been avoiding the castle because of Jareth's temper. Now that he's more or less back to his usual self, maybe they'll come back."

"This is normal?" Brenna asked skeptically. "You mean he's always a prick?"

Hoggle laughed. "If I was still afraid of Jareth, I woulda told you to shush. Now I know why Sarah is friends with you." He walked to the door and opened it. "I'll see if I can get a message to her for you. If she's not in the Underground anymore, I'll see what I can do to get her here. Maybe you're right - maybe Sarah can get you out of here." He hobbled out and shut the door behind him.

Brenna eyed the foot and what she assumed was a bottle of medicine. At least the bowl of soup and crust of bread looked appetizing. She hurried to eat the meal and downed the bitter tasting liquid that Hoggle had provided. Feeling a little better, she approached the door and tested the handle.

It wasn't locked.

"Might as well start cleaning," she muttered to herself as she stepped out into the hallway. "I've slept so much today, I don't think I could go back to sleep."

~*T*~*G*~

Herne stood beside a window, looking out the twisted and dark domain that was his. The sky was perpetually dark as if the clouds wanted to burst with rain. They never did, which was why the trees were bare and the ground parched and cracked. Everything was black or gray.

A knock on a door caused him to turn and scowl at the sound. It wasn't one of his minions, he was sure. They never disturbed him while he stood in this room. They knew better.

"What?" He barked at the door, hearing a whimper and thud from the other side. Herne's dark eyes narrowed and his lips formed a grim line when the door opened a crack and the shaking form of one of Jareth's goblins entered.

"What do you want?" Herne demanded irritably as he turned to look back out over the dark lands.

"Lady Plur is with Jareth now," the goblin answered. "Heard it with my own ears. Brought her to the castle with my own hands!"

Herne turned to stare at the trembling goblin. He had not foreseen this twist in events. He had assumed that the moment Yaron had his former fiancé so close to him, he would keep her hidden away in the Troll Bridge. That had been the course of action for centuries! Now, Yaron had sent her to Jareth? Why not send Sarah? Had Yaron fallen for the Goblin Princess -?

"Get back there," Herne hissed with a wave of his hand. "Find out all you can about Plur's plan. There must be a reason she is there and not Leanan! Go!"

The goblin yelped and shuffled back out of the room.

The Erlking turned to stare once more at the land, but now his thoughts were focused on the two fae sisters. This was not how events had played out before.

~*T*~*G*~

Hoggle stood impatiently among the crowd of refugees. He looked around at the groups of sad goblins, dwarves, and faeries. They had recently lost their homes to the unchecked Labyrinth. He knew that they wouldn't flee to their king and the Goblin City. He was not ignorant of the rumors whispered among the citizens of the Labyrinth that Jareth was powerless to protect them. That he no longer cared about his loyal citizens.

Here they stood beside a large wall made of twigs, roots, vines, and tree branches. Waiting.

The leader of the group had spoken for them all, the words to call for a guide. They waited.

Eventually, an entrance began to form as the brush that made up the walls pulled back in snake-like movements. Several trolls stood and began directing the relieved crowds into three groups. Two guides per group.

Hoggle struggled to the front of the crowds to a troll he knew well.

"Namin!"

The hairy troll turned to look at the dwarf.

"Namin, I need to talk to ya." Hoggle huffed and puffed when he reached the troll. The look of disgust on the troll's face wasn't lost on the dwarf. Hoggle knew that he still smelled like the Bog. He had never fallen in, but the smell tended to linger.

"Whatcha' need?" The troll asked, trying very hard to paste a neutral expression on his face.

"Sarah," Hoggle stated easily, knowing that the troll's expression of astonishment gave away the answer the dwarf was looking for. "She's on the Bridge, ain't she?"

"Well - ah -"

"Hoggle!" The pair turned to see the brunette woman running full speed at them. With a laugh, she fell to her knees and wrapped him up into a hug. "Oh, Hoggle! I've missed you!"

The dwarf patted her back and smiled despite his surprise. "Sarah, what're you doin' here?"

"Shoulda stayed on the Bridge," Namin insisted nervously. "What'll Yaron say?"

"When I saw Hoggle, I had to come over," she stated firmly. Sarah pulled away from her friend's embrace. "How are Didymus? And Ludo?"

"They're fine," the dwarf reassured her. "But, Sarah, I gots to tell you about Brenna!"

"Is she okay?" Sarah asked with worry. Namin too stopped what he was doing and gave the dwarf a concerned look.

"She's fine," Hoggle reassured, "but she was wished away, and Jareth is keepin' her at the castle! Her folks won't run for her - Sarah, you have to get her out of there! It ain't a place she should be. If Jareth finds out she's friends with you -"

"He has to," Sarah stated firmly. "He has to find out, and she has to stay."

"Sarah!"

"It's for their own good!" Sarah insisted as she gently shook her friend by the shoulders. "Jareth has to remember and - somehow - maybe Brenna will too."

"Remember what?"

Sarah bit her lip and searched his face. She knew she could tell him. He would keep it to himself. "Brenna and I," she began, "we're the prophesied fae sisters. Leanan and Plur."

"What?!"

"It's true, Hoggle," the young woman insisted. "I'm not making this up, and I'm not pretending. Delphi came and -"

"Delphi?" Hoggle groused irritably. "I knew she had somethin' to do with this!"

"Please, Hoggle," Sarah interrupted his oncoming rant. "Help Brenna. I can't right now - not yet."

Namin tugged on her elbow. "We have ta leave now!"

The dwarf looked back and forth between the two. He didn't want Sarah to leave, but -

"Is this one of those things that - this is the way it's done?" He asked hesitantly, remembering the time she had run off to face Jareth alone.

Sarah smiled sadly. "I'm afraid so, Hoggle. But if she needs you - or if you both need me -"

"We'll call," he promised with a nod. "I'll try to let you know what's goin' on as much as I can."

A quick hug and a peck on the cheek was his reward. "Thank you, Hoggle!" She stood and with Namin and the many refugees, hurried onto the bridge. Hoggle remained behind and watched as the walls reformed and shut off the way onto the Bridge.

~*T*~*G*~

Hoggle returned to the castle, a small crowd of goblin maids in tow. He had brought the maids he housed in the Bog - those who had been sent there by an irritable Jareth some time ago. The dwarf glanced at the crew and sighed. They were trembling at the sight of the castle, and he knew that if it had not been for Hoggle, they wouldn't be here at all!

"Let's get to cleaning, then," one of the older of the maids ordered.

Hoggle left them to it and hurried off in search of Brenna. To his surprise, her room was deserted. He had thought that she would be exhausted and asleep by now - or at the very least, cleaning her own room so it was habitable.

He traversed the hallways, poking his head into various rooms. Many of the bedrooms on the floor appeared to have been cleaned - even Jareth's room on the opposite wing of the palace was done. As Hoggle searched for Brenna, he was approached by a very alarmed maid.

"Come see!" She exclaimed in wide-eyed fear. She gulped and gasped, but couldn't explain more to the dwarf.

He followed the maid to what he knew to be a large hall that had once been used for banquets when Jareth entertained members of the Seelie Court. The room had been just as dirty and neglected as the rest of the castle. When Hoggle was led into the hall, he stared in astonishment.

It hadn't been cleaned completely - there was still a long way to go. What had been done, however, was just enough to see the brilliant marble floors once more and a few gleaming candlesticks.

Hoggle spied a huddled form on the edge of the clean floor and the dirty floor. She had started at the far end of the hall and had worked backwards, but her exhaustion had finally caught up with her. Brenna was sound asleep.

Shaking his head, he said, "Get 'er up to her room - make sure the bed's clean at least before you put her in it!"

Hoggle watched as Brenna was carried away by the clucking and admiring goblin maids. What was he going to do with this girl?

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: So much of Yaron talking! I really do like the accent. Again, I apologize to those readers who get confused with his dialogue... Just think, it could be worse. If you read Brian Jacques' books (Redwall series) it could have been like the moles!<strong>

**Please review! I'd like to know what you all think. :)**

Aye, coosin? – Yes, cousin?

You werenae usin' it. – You weren't using it.

Whit can Ah dae fur ye, Jareth? – What can I do for you, Jareth?

Ye cannae deny 'at th' Labyrinth has bin movin' unchecked fur some time, Jareth. – You can't deny that the Labyrinth has been moving unchecked fur some time, Jareth.

Mah subjects hae bin guidin' several ay yer ain fowk frae harm's way when their homes ur eaten by th' Labyrinth. – My subjects have been guiding several of your own people from harm's way when their homes are eaten by the Labyrinth.

Hae ye seen yer city, Jareth? Better yit, yer Labyrinth? – Have you seen your city, Jareth? Better yet, your Labyrinth?

Yoo're in a famine an' drooght! Yoor fowk woods hae tae travel ben th' Labyrinth tae gie haur, an' that's tay radge e'en fur yer gardeners! – You're in a famine and drought! Your people would have to travel through the Labyrinth to get here, and that's too dangerous, even for your gardeners!

Aam sayin' thes coz we're friends, Jareth. – I'm saying this because we're friends, Jareth.

Until ye gie yerself together an' start actin' loch a kin', Ah will continue tae hae mah trolls help yer fowk. – Until you get yourself together and start acting like a king, I will continue to have my trolls help your people.

Guid day, coosin. – Good day, cousin.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Advice

Brenna jumped at the sound of a knock on her bedroom door. She looked around in confusion for a moment before remembering where she was. The Goblin City - more specifically - the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. What she did not remember, however, was coming to bed. Or for that matter, this lovely room in which she was now resting.

The knocking continued until the ginger-haired girl scurried from the rose colored bed. She was still wearing the khakis, green shirt, and heart-themed jewelry that she had worn that fateful morning the day before. Stains of dirt and dust spotted her pants, but Brenna didn't know what else to wear.

Conscious of her appearance, she hesitantly opened the door of her new room. Brenna expected to see a furious Goblin King - after all, she had fallen asleep when she ought to be cleaning and she had fallen asleep in a much nicer room than what she had been assigned. The clearing of a throat made her to look down at a goblin woman dressed in a drab brown dress that almost melted into the creature's skin color.

"Girlie, I have breakfast for ya in the kitchen."

"Oh," Brenna replied in surprise, "thank you!" The goblin woman bobbed her head and turned to scurry down the hall, but Brenna called after the quick creature, "Wait!"

The goblin turned. "Yes, girlie?"

"Where is my room?" Brenna asked as she blushed. "I'm afraid I must have lost my way yesterday while cleaning."

The goblin woman tilted her head as her face puckered in confusion. "This is girlie's room. Goblins cleaned it 'fore puttin' you to bed. Can't have you sleep in a dirty room, no no!" The goblin maid motioned for Brenna to follow. "Come! Breakfast!"

"Should I change?" Brenna asked as she hurried after the goblin.

"Clothes in house-keepin' rooms," the goblin answered. "Change there." The maid eyed Brenna's soiled pants and wrinkled shirt with a critical gaze. "Can clean those, yes we can!"

Brenna thanked the goblin before realizing, she hadn't introduced herself or asked the maid for her name. "I'm Brenna," the young woman offered as they descended some stairs. "What may I call you?"

"Tillie," the goblin answered as she hopped down a step. "Tillie knows 'Renna. Prince Hoggle told us all 'bout you. We came back to help." Tillie wrinkled her nose. "Kingie been mean since the princess left. No one wanted to stay. Labyrinth even worse."

"Why did you come back to help me?" Brenna asked with some confusion.

Tillie looked up at Brenna with a wide smile that wrinkled her face. "You say the princess will come for you. Hope she will stay this time and Kingie be nice again." Before Brenna could ask who this princess was - and if they meant Sarah, why was this goblin calling her friend a princess? - they had gone through a door, and Brenna was greeted by the heat and smell of food.

Her eyes widened as she looked around the room that was bustling with goblins. In their odd, garbled speech cooks called orders to their underlings and some servants sat around a table laughing and eating. The noise and chaos of the room overwhelmed her. She hung back by the door while Tillie disappeared into the masses.

One goblin noted her entrance and stopped talking. Then the goblins nearest the first spotted her too and quieted. The pattern continued until the whole kitchen was silent. All eyes were on her. Brenna was used to performing in front of crowds, but this was uncomfortable!

Tillie popped up on a step ladder and clapped her child-like hands. "Girlie needs breakfast! Stop starin' like a bunch of fishies and move over at the table!" Noise returned to its usual level as servants did as ordered.

Brenna shuffled through the goblins that came up to her waist and tried to avoid being run into by cooks and scullery maids. An empty stool was available and she took it - even though she felt like she was sitting at a table made for kindergarteners. The plates and cups were large enough for her, and she was amazed at how the goblins could eat and drink the same amount as a grown person despite being the size of children.

She sipped at the contents in her cup, the sweet juice making her think of a peach mango combination. Eggs and bacon were piled high as well as pancakes and slices of ham. Brenna took a little bit of everything, surprised to see so many normal foods in such an unusual place.

"Kingie needs his breakfast!" Someone shouted over the din. All eyes instantly shifted to Brenna, who had just taken a bite out of a piece of toast.

Tillie hopped up on her stool once more. "Girlie! Hurry and change! Kingie's breakfast be ready soon so you gotta be ready!"

"I have to take it?" Brenna questioned in a mild panic. "I thought I was supposed to clean the castle - not serve him."

"Kingie asked for you," another goblin explained. "Hurry 'fore he gets mad!"

Not wanting to see him mad - or angrier than he had already been - Brenna snatched up two slices of toast and made a sandwich with an egg and piece of ham. She hurried into a room that several maids ushered her into and munched on her sandwich as the maids threw pieces of cloth around.

"This fit?"

"No, too small."

"How 'bout this?"

"Too big!"

The goblin women bickered back and forth until they shrugged their shoulders and pulled sewing needles and thread out from various places on their person. Brenna soon had a patchwork dress made from various scraps of other dresses. The gray material wasn't too plain looking on her, but it wasn't a garment that would have her stand out either.

She changed quickly, but insisted on keeping her undergarments on for the day. Brenna decided she would wash those herself in the privacy of her own room.

Brenna was ushered out again and in the swirl of the pandemonium, she found herself wearing an apron and holding a covered tray. The young woman blinked in surprise, feeling dizzy from everything.

A tug on the skirt of her dress broke her from her daze. Looking down into Tillie's face, Brenna felt some relief. At least she wouldn't be asked to traverse the maze-like castle alone.

"Come, girlie! Must move!" Tillie shuffled away with the ginger-haired girl following close behind.

~*T*~*G*~

Jareth stood on the balcony of his bedroom, staring out over the Labyrinth. His eyebrows were dipped into a scowl. Concern in his eyes. Not for the first time did he wonder what - if anything - could he possibly do to rectify the situation.

His kingdom was in shambles!

A knock on the door roused him from his deep contemplations. He waved a hand to allow it to open with magic - but when he felt nothing happen - Jareth scowled and stormed into his bedroom.

How demeaning! He couldn't even open a door. His magic gone - the last of it had been used to change into an owl to watch her - the night she had left him.

Jareth jerked open his door and barked, "What?!"

Brenna's sharp intake of breath made him focus on the person he had just barked at. He glared at her, waiting for her to respond. When she didn't, he asked tersely, "Well?"

A throat clearing made him look down. A goblin maid stood between him and the mortal woman.

"Girlie brings Kingie's breakfast," Tillie explained. "Come in, yes?"

The Goblin King bit back a growl. He merely rolled his eyes and moved to let them pass. He stalked over to an armchair situated by a dormant fireplace and threw himself onto it like a petulant child. A gloved hand came up to hide his face, and Jareth closed his eyes. The feeling of those all too familiar migraines coming on again. They always happened when he tried to use magic. Magic he no longer had.

Jareth glared through his fingers at Brenna as she quietly set the tray down on a table nearby. He watched her movements and thought that she must be the same age as _her_. What an odd coincidence that Brenna had possibly met his cousin - two women had been to the Underground.

"Why don't you remember?" He asked, his tone sharp from his previous irritation and the pain behind his eyes.

Jareth noted her small jump of surprise at being spoken to. Thankfully she hadn't dropped the plate she was setting out for his breakfast. Brenna looked over at him with wide-eyes. "What?"

"Why don't you remember where you got that flute?" He motioned with his other hand toward the mantel of his fireplace. Jareth had set the flimsy instrument there last night and hadn't thought about it until now.

Brenna tilted her head as a look of longing crossed her features. Like one of his runners who had been offered a crystal with all their dreams attached.

"Well - I thought I had been given that flute by a friend - but no one believed me. I used to think it never happened but -" she trailed off as a frown came to her face. "But now - now I know it really happened."

"What happened?" Jareth questioned.

The girl would have answered, or was about to, when the goblin shuffled away from his bed. "Done cleaning in here, Kingie! Must be gettin' girlie to cleaning the castle! Come, come!"

A look of relief passed over Brenna's face and with a bit of an awkward curtsey, she hurried out of the room - ushered to safety by the goblin maid.

And for a reason Jareth couldn't fathom, he let them leave.

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna felt exhausted. Today had taken so long and she was ready to collapse onto her bed. Better yet, now that the bath-like pool had been cleaned, she might just soak in it until she fell asleep. A yawn escaped her as she opened her bedroom door.

So close to forgetting the bath and just going straight to bed, Brenna was startled when she heard a loud shout like a roar and something glass shattering. She whirled around, wondering what the sound had been.

Suddenly, several goblins were running through the hallway.

"What is it? What's happened?" She asked them.

One fellow she had learned was named Glob stopped beside her door. "Kingie mad! Really, really mad! Must leave now!"

Tillie was the next to appear before the young woman. "Girlie must come with us. Can't stay here!"

Brenna looked in the direction of the angry shouts and the sound of shattering objects. For one insane second, she thought to go find him and see what she could do to help calm him down. She shook the idea out of her head and turned to go down the hallway with Tillie, Glob, and the others. Another shout tore through the castle, making her stop. Biting her lip.

"Brenna!" She heard Tillie's panicked shout. She knew she was running toward the Goblin King. She knew she was doing something totally crazy, but she just almost - _knew_ - that sound. It sounded so familiar. Like the sound of someone who was falling apart and had no one to put them back together again. She had heard that sound inside her head growing up after every doctor or psychiatrist session. Every time her grandfather left a recital or family function without one word of encouragement or praise.

Brenna stopped by his bedroom door. She looked in and saw it was a mess, but he wasn't here. She stepped in and heard the crunch of glass under her black flats. Eyes scanning the room in case he really was there. Prepared to duck or run should something else made of glass shatter - near her head. Blue eyes fell on the flute sitting on the fireplace mantel.

Another animalistic scream further down the hall alerted her to Jareth's continued distress. Her fingers wrapped around the flute and she ran from the room.

Like a swimmer going upstream, Brenna weaved as quickly as she could through the goblins. Eventually, her steps led her to a room with a door as silver as the moon and stars. She peered in through the door that was flung open. A room with walls made of glass - the roof the shape of a dome. Marble floors were strewn with glass, but it wasn't from the walls themselves.

Jareth stood on the far side of the room, throwing chairs and other objects at the walls, trying to shatter them. She watched in silence, not sure when to approach or whether she should say something to him. Alert the irate man to her presence.

As suddenly as the tantrum had started, it stopped. He stood with his hands on the glass wall, his head hanging low. He was panting - gasping - for breath. Jareth's head rose a few inches and Brenna watched as he glared at his reflection. His gloved hands fisted and with a growl and sob he punched the wall - his reflection.

Brenna lifted the flute to her lips - unsure why now seemed right in her mind. She quickly hid behind a pale white pillar and began a soothing tune. Using the walls as her way to keep an eye on him, and thankful that he could not see her ensconced behind the pillar and hidden behind a curtain that draped from it. Jareth turned sharply toward the sound. His eyes narrowed, his jaw firmly clenched.

Brenna continued playing and watched him through his reflection on the wall. He stalked about the room - searching for her. But the curvature of the walls carried the sound - threw it all around the ballroom. Jareth's search, begun in vain, ended. Eventually he sank onto a bench set to the side. His head was cradled in his hands - hair fisted between his fingers.

She kept playing.

Like a dream - or a daydream - Jareth saw something in front of his eyes. Like a vision from one of his crystals he stared into the swirl of colors - unsure of what it could possibly be.

~*T*~*G*~

_He saw her sitting on the lip of a fountain, running her fingers through the water. She giggled at something, but he didn't know from where he stood what it could be. The red-headed woman lifted her hand from the water's surface and shook the droplets from her hand._

_She rested her hand on the flute that she had strapped to her side. Like a sheath for a sword - the little case allowed her to carry her betrothed's gift with her all the time._

"_Well, if it isn't Leanan's sister." She looked up to see Jareth standing not so far away - his body leaning against a tree trunk._

"_Good day, sir," she greeted timidly as she stood. "If you are looking for my sister, I am afraid she has gone for a ride. Perhaps you could catch her if you left now."_

"_I am not here for Leanan," Jareth quipped. He wasn't looking at her anymore. Rather - he was looking somewhere else. He wasn't really seeing wherever he was looking. Just staring._

"_Then," Plur spoke again, "are you here for my father?"_

"_No."_

_A moment's pause stretched between them._

"_Are you here to speak with me?" her question was quiet - almost a whisper._

_Jareth looked over at her now, his mismatched gaze looking into her compassionate blue eyes. He wanted to scowl - to push away that look of pity and sympathy! But he didn't. He merely nodded._

_Plur sat again and continued to watch him. "You know," she began, "Leanan is a bit of a free spirit. She has always been so._

"_I remember a time when she was so upset with Mother and Father - I forget the reason for it - and she decided to go to a friend's estate and stay there - she didn't tell anyone where she was going. We were all so frantic looking for her." Plur smiled. "But despite all that, she was very sorry for what she had done. She cried you know - Leanan doesn't cry very often. She isn't the type to fall to pieces."_

_Plur looked up at him. "But even if she doesn't cry - she hurts - her whole heart just aches away as if it were crying._

"_I know you must be jealous," she continued. "It is understandable - mortal men fascinate her as they are so creative. She loves to hear the tales and songs of those Aboveground. It is true that she seeks them out and give the finest storytellers her own gift of magic."_

"_Why should _I_ be jealous?" Jareth demanded irritably as he stalked up to her. "What is there to be jealous of? Jealous? Hardly! I find the idea of her fascination with mortal men laughable! Pitiful! Weak!" Inches away from his face, he noted her wince and downturned eyes. Clenching his hands into fists, he turned his back to her._

"_She is a fae," he continued, "We are better than mortals. She should not give her gifts so lightly."_

"_I wouldn't think she did," Plur answered. "I wouldn't think she does. Is it really so wrong to want to bring joy to others? Isn't that admirable?"_

_Jareth scoffed. "What need do the mortals have for her gifts anyway?"_

"_Perhaps - hope? Hope in something not seen. Something magical." Plur suggested. He heard her skirts rustling as she walked. The young woman came to stand in front of him. Her head tilted slightly. "Perhaps, she also gives them these gifts, because she is hoping. Waiting for something magical."_

"_Like what?"_

_Plur smiled as she pulled out her flute. "A gift in return. She knows the mortals' gifts cannot be claimed. Not by her. She is hoping and waiting for someone to gift her not just something tangible, but real all the same."_

_Jareth thought silently for a moment. Then asked, "What sort of gift would she want?"_

"_I leave that," she answered, "up to you to decide. After all, the gift would mean much more if it was your own idea and creation."_

~*T*~*G*~

Brenna watched as the Goblin King slumped to one side in sleep. Lowering her flute as she finished the tune, she stepped out from her hiding place - but only a little as she wasn't sure if he were faking. A hiss caused her to look toward the door of the room.

A small crowd of goblins stood there - along with Hoggle. The goblins were all staring at her with wide-eyed fascination. The dwarf only let mild surprise leak through his countenance, but he nodded at her.

"Good work, leave it to us to get him cleaned up. Off ta bed with ya."

Relieved that no one expected her to stay longer, the young woman walked toward the door. She stopped and looked down at the flute in her hand. Hesitantly, she offered it to Hoggle. "You should put this back in his room - he may not appreciate it if I keep it."

The dwarf looked at the object then at Brenna's almost pained expression. He knew she was right - Jareth was returning to his usual insufferable self so he wouldn't be happy in the least if he discovered the flute missing. With a sigh, he took the flute in his hand and gently tucked it away in the pouch of jewels that hung from his belt.

The group watched as the weary young woman walked down the hall and away from them. One goblin said, "Girlie reminds me of Goblin Princess."

"No, silly!" Another maid poked the first speaker in the side. "She not Sarah! She - she someone else."

"Who?" squeaked a smaller goblin. "Who is she?"

Hoggle glared at the bunch. "Stop gabbin' and get the king off the floor!"

The group jolted into action, leaving Hoggle to supervise their process. He looked once more after Brenna's retreating figure and sighed.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: (Warning, it's long. Please read)<strong>

I've had this chapter finished for a long time, I just haven't wanted to post it until I had this little blurb figured out. I have received feedback – both positive and negative – for this story. A majority of the comments have been positive, and after this last chapter I needed to remind myself of that little fact. Perhaps I'm too sensitive, perhaps I can't always take criticism. I'd like to think I take criticism well. My reaction to one comment, however, made me realize that – no, I almost ruined something wonderful that I and my readers enjoy. What was it that almost made me stop writing this story? Well – Yaron's accent.

It seems my previous comment in Chapter 18 struck a nerve in a reader, who decided not to sign in when they left their comment. I am not trying to call you out or belittle you, I merely want to make a statement that I hope you and others will understand. I am not an expert with the Scottish dialect. I freely admit that. I have been using a "Scottish Generator" from a website called whoohoo. They use what they call Generic Stage Scots, and should not be taken as a representative of the speech of all Scots. Whoohoo has been around since September 1999 and is still going strong. If I have offended anyone who is Scottish, that was not my intention. In fact, instead of mocking me (as that was how it came across), I would appreciate an offer of assistance. If you wish to beta Yaron's dialogue from here on out, I would not turn down that offer.

You see, Yaron's accent is here to stay. It has become a part of his character. I thought about getting rid of the accent, but to be honest, I love it as do many other readers. To suddenly stop using his accent would be ruining my craft as an author. I meant him to have it and have it he shall. If this were a book – then you would most likely skip over his dialogue. You would not write the author and tell them how they should write their book. I know it must be annoying to scroll down to the bottom of the page, and I apologize for that, but you would have to do the same for a book if it had a glossary in the back.

I went back through the reviews before I made my decision – to keep Yaron's accent. I had more reviews saying they _liked_ his accent that his accent helped them _understand_ the Scottish dialect a little more. I had a grand total of _two_ negative reviews requesting I not use it or say that it was annoying. Two out of two hundred and five reviews.

So Yaron's accent is staying. Period. End of story. If it annoys you, if you get upset with me for this little note, then you are more than welcome to stop reading. I'm not saying you have to. I don't want you to stop reading, but if you can't let me do what I want to do – can't let me enjoy my story that I'm sharing with this community, then I'd rather you stop reading instead of making me feel like I should give up.

I'm not asking for sympathy. I'm not asking for people to come to my defense. I don't want people to "hate" on another person in this community. I wanted to be honest and let my readers know where I stand on my writing. It is my story just as much as it is yours, but I'm the writer and I have a reason for what I wrote.

Thank you all for your support and loving this story that I love so much. I hope to hear from you all in the reviews.


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